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I 


CONTENTS 

Chapter 

I. In Which a Young Man Trespasses 

II. In Which a Young Woman Trespasses 

III. In Which a Dog Trespasses . . . 

IV. In Which the Truth Trespasses 

V. In Which Dan Cupid Trespasses . 

VI. In Which a Ghost Trespasses 

VII. In Which the Author Trespasses 


H 









“H E ’S just an infernal dude, your lord- 
ship, and I *11 throw him in the river if he 
says a word too much.*’ 

‘‘He has already said too much, Tomp- 
kins, confound him, don’t you know.** 
“Then I *m to throw him in whether he 
says anything or not, sir ? ** 

“ Have you seen him ? ** 

“No, your lordship, but James has. 
James says he wears a red coat and — ** 

“ Never mind, Tompkins. He has no 
right to fish on this side of that log. The 
insufferable ass may own the land on the 
opposite side, but, confound his imperti- 
nence, I own it on this side.** 



S.H 


2 


Cowardice Court 

This concluding assertion of the usually 
placid but now irate Lord Bazelhurst was not 
quite as momentous as it sounded. As a 
matter of fact, the title to the land was vested 
entirely in his young American wife ; his sole 
possession, according to report, being a title 
much less substantial but a great deal more 
picturesque than the large, much-handled 
piece of paper down in the safety deposit vault 
— lying close and crumpled among a million 
sordid, homely little slips called coupons. 

It requires no great stretch of imagination 
to understand that Lord Bazelhurst had an 
undesirable neighbour. That neighbour was 
young Mr. Shaw — Randolph Shaw, heir to 
the Randolph fortune. It may be fair to 
state that Mr. Shaw also considered himself 
to be possessed of an odious neighbour. In 
other words, although neither had seen the 
other, there was a feud between the owners 
of the two estates that had all the earmarks 
of an ancient romance. 

Lady Bazelhurst was the daughter of a 
New York millionaire ; she was young, beau- 
tiful, and arrogant. Nature gave her youth 
and beauty ; marriage’ gave her the remaining 
quality. Was she not Lady Bazelhurst? 
What odds if Lord Bazelhurst happened to 



OUNG 


AN 


ESPASSES 3 

be a middle-aged, addle-pated ass ? So much 
the better. Bazel hurst castle and the Bazel- 
hurst estates (heavily encumbered before her 
father came to the rescue) were among the 
oldest and most coveted in the English 
market. Her mother noted, with unctu- 
ous joy, that the present Lady Bazelhurst 
in babyhood had extreme difficulty in mas- 
tering the eighth letter of the alphabet, 
certainly a most flattering sign of natal 
superiority, notwithstanding the fact that 
her father was plain old John Banks (de- 
ceased), formerly of Jersey City, more latterly 
of Wall street and St. Thomas's. 

Bazelhurst was a great catch, but Banks 
was a good name to conjure with, so he 
capitulated with a willingness that savoured 
somewhat of suspended animation (so fearful 
was he that he might do something to disturb 
the dream before it came true). That was 
two years ago. With exquisite irony. Lady 
Bazelhurst decided to have a country-place 
in America. Her agents discovered a glori- 
ous section of woodland in the Adirondacks, 
teeming with trout streams, game haunts, 
unparalleled scenery ; her ladyship instructed 
them to buy without delay. It was just here 
that young Mr. Shaw came into prominence. 



Cowardice Court 

His grandfather had left him a fortune 
and he was looking about for ways in which 
to spend a portion of it. College, travel, 
and society having palled on him, he hied 
himself into the big hills west of Lake Cham- 
plain, searching for beauty, solitude, and life 
as he imagined it should be lived. He found 
and bought five hundred acres of the most 
beautiful bit of wilderness in the mountains. 

The same streams coursed through his 
hills and dales that ran through those of Lady 
Bazelhurst, the only distinction being that 
his portion was the more desirable. When 
her ladyship’s agents came leisurely up to 
close their deal, they discovered that Mr. 
Shaw had snatched up this choice five hun- 
dred acres of the original tract intended 
for their client. At least one thousand 
acres were left for the young lady, but she 
was petulant enough to covet all of it. 

Overtures were made to Mr. Shaw, but 
he would not sell. He was preparing to 
erect a handsome country-place, and he did 
not want to alter his plans. Courteously at 
first, then somewhat scathingly he declined 
to discuss the proposition with her agents. 
After two months of pressure of the most 
tiresome persistency, he lost his temper and 



A Young Man Trespasses 

sent a message to his inquisitors that sud- 
denly terminated all negotiations. After- 
wards, when he learned that their client was a 
lady, he wrote a conditional note of apology, 
but, if he expected a response, he was disap- 
pointed. A year went by, and now, with the 
beginning of this narrative, two newly com- 
pleted country homes glowered at each other 
from separate hillsides, one envious and 
spiteful, the other defiant and a bit satirical. 

Bazelhurst Villa looks across the valley 
and sees Shaw’s Cottage commanding the 
most beautiful view in the hills; the very 
eaves of her ladyship’s house seem to have 
wrinkled into a constant scowl of annoyance. 
Shaw’s long, low cottage seems to srnile back 
with tantalizing security, serene in its more 
lofty altitude, in its more gorgeous raiment 
of nature. The brooks laugh with the glit- 
ter of trout, the trees chuckle with the flight 
of birds, the hillsides frolic in their abun- 
dance of game, but the acres are growling like 
dogs of war. “ Love thy neighbour as thy- 
self” is not printed on the boards that line 
the borders of the two estates. In bold 
black letters the sign-boards laconicallv say : 
“No trespassing on these grounds. Keep 



Q 



6 Cowardice Court 

“Yes, I fancy you’d better put him off 
the place if he comes down here again to 
fish, Tompkins,” said his lordship, in con- 
clusion. Then he touched whip to his horse 
and bobbed off through the shady lane in a 
most painfully upright fashion, his thin legs 
sticking straight out, his breath coming in 
agonized little jerks with each succeeding 
return of his person to the saddle. 

“By Jove, Evelyn, it’s most annoying 
about that confounded Shaw chap,” he re- 
marked to his wife as he mounted the broad 
steps leading to the gallery half an hour ^ 
later, walking with the primness which sug- 
gests pain. Lady Bazelhurst looked up 
from her book, her fine aristocratic young 
face clouding with ready belligerence. 

“ What has he done, Cecil dear ? ” 

“ Been fishing on our property again, 
that’s all. Tompkins says he laughed at 
him when he told him to get off. I say, do 
you know, I think I ’ll have to adopt rough 
methods with that chap. Hang it all, what 
right has he to catch our fish ?” 

“ Oh, how I hate that man ! ” exclaimed 
her ladyship petulantly. 

“ But I ’ve given Tompkins final instruc- 
tions.” 




A Young Man Trespasses 7 

And what are they ? ” 

“ To throw him in the river next time/’ 
Oh, if he only could! ” rapturously. 

“ Could? My dear, Tompkins is an 
American. He can handle these chaps in 
their own way. At any rate, I told Tomp- 
kins if his nerve failed him at the last minute 
to come and notify me. I'll attend to this 
confounded popinjay ! ” 

“ Good for you, Cecil ! ” called out another 
young woman from the broad hammock in 
which she had been dawdling with half-alert 
ears through the foregoing conversation. 

Spoken like a true Briton. What is this 
popinjay like ? ” 

“Hullo, sister. Hang it all, what’s he 
like? He’s like an ass, that’s all. I’ve 
never seen him, but if 1 ’m ever called upon 
to — but you don’t care to listen to details. 
You remember the big log that lies out in 
the river up at the bend? Well, it marks 
the property line. One half of its stump 
belongs to the Shaw man, the other half to 
m — to us, Evelyn. He shan’t fish below 
that log — no, sir!” His lordship glared 
fiercely through his monocle in the direction 
of the far-away log, his watery blue eyes 
blinking as malevolently as possible, his 


8 


Cowardice Court 



long, aristocratic nose wrinkling at its base 
in fine disdain. His five feet four of stature 
quivered with illy-subdued emotion, but 
whether it was rage or the sudden recollec- 
tion of the dog-trot through the woods, it is 
beyond me to suggest. 

‘‘ But suppose our fish venture into his 
waters, Cecil ; what then ? Is n't that tres- 
pass ? ” demanded the Honourable Penelope 
Drake, youngest and most cherished sister 
of his lordship. 

“ Now, don’t be silly. Pen,” cried her 
sister-in-law. “ Of course we can’t regulate 
the fish.” 

But I daresay his fish will come below 
the log, so what ’s the odds ? ” said his lord- 
ship quickly. “A trout’s a lawless brute 
at best.” 

‘Ms he big?” asked the Honourable 
Penelope lazily. 

“ They vary, my dear girl.” 

“ 1 mean Mr. Shaw.” 

“Oh, I thought you meant the — but I 
don’t know. What difference does that 
make ? Big or little, he has to stay off my 
grounds.” Was it a look of pride that his 
tall young wife bestowed upon him as he 
drew himself proudly erect or was it akin to 




A Young Man Trespasses 9 

pity ? At any rate, her gay young Ameri- 
can head was inches above his own when 
she arose and suggested that they go inside 
and prepare for the housing of the guests who 
were to come over from the evening train. 

“ The drag has gone over to the station, 
Cecil, and it should be here by seven 
o’clock.*’ 

“ Confound his impudence, I ’ll show him,” 
grumbled his lordship as he followed her, 
stiff-legged, toward the door. 

“What’s up, Cecil, with your legs?” 
called his sister. “ Are you getting old ? ” 
This suggestion always irritated him. 

“ Old ? Silly question. You know how 
old I am. No; it’s that beastly American 
horse. Evelyn, I told you they have no 
decent horses in this beastly country. They 
jiggle the life out of one — ” but he was 
obliged to unbend himself perceptibly in 
order to keep pace with her as she hurried 
through the door. 

The Honourable Penelope allowed her 
indolent gaze to follow them. A perplexed 
pucker finally developed on her fair brow and 
her thought was almost expressed aloud: 
“ By Jove, I wonder if she really loves him.” 
Penelope was very pretty and very bright 


lO 


Cowardice Court 


She was visiting America for the first time 
and she was learning rapidly. Cecil ’s a 
good sort, you know, even — but she was 
loyal enough to send her thoughts into other 
channels. 

Nightfall brought half a dozen guests to 
Bazelhurst Villa. They were fashionable 
to the point where ennui is the chief char- 
acteristic, and they came only for bridge and 
sleep. There was a duke among them and 
also a French count, besides the bored New 
Yorkers; they wanted brandy and soda as 
soon as they got into the house, and they 
went to bed early because it was so much 
easier to sleep lying down than sitting up. 

All were up by noon the next day, more 
bored than ever, fondly praying that nothing 
might happen before bedtime. The duke 
was making desultory love to Mrs. De Pey- 
ton and Mrs. De Peyton was leading him 
aimlessly toward the shadier and more se- 
cluded nooks in the park surrounding the 
Villa. Penelope, fresh and full of the pur- 
pose of life, was off alone for a long stroll. 
By this means she avoided the attentions of 
the duke, who wanted to marry her; those of 
the count who also said he wanted to marry 
her but could n’t because his wife would not 


A Young Man Trespasses ii 

consent; those of one New Yorker, who 
liked her because she was English ; and 
the pallid chatter of the women who bored 
her with their conjugal cynicisms. 

‘‘ What the deuce is this coming down the 
road ? ” queried the duke, returning from 
the secluded nook at luncheon time. 

“ Some one has been hurt,” exclaimed his 
companion. Others were looking down the 
leafy road from the gallery. 

“ By Jove, it ’s Penelope, don’t you know,” 
ejaculated the duke, dropping his monocle 
and blinking his eye as if to rest it for the 
time being. 

“ But she ’s not hurt. She ’s helping to 
support one of those men.” 

“ Hey ! ” shouted his lordship from the 
gallery, as Penelope and two dilapidated male 
companions abruptly started to cut across the 
park in the direction of the stables. “ What ’s 
up ? ” Penelope waved her hand aimlessly, 
but did not change her course. Whereupon 
the entire house party sallied forth in more or 
less trepidation to intercept the strange party. 

‘‘ Who are these men ? ” demanded Lady 
Bazelhurst, as they came up to the fast- 
breathing young Englishwoman. 

‘‘ Don’t bother me, please. We must get 


(o 


\o 


Q 


9 



Q 







Cowardice Court 

him to bed at once. He 
monia/’ replied Penelope. 

Both men were dripping wet and the one 
in the middle limped painfully, probably 
because both eyes were swollen tight and 
his nose was bleeding. Penelope's face was 
beaming with excitement and interest. 

‘‘ Who are you ? " demanded his lordship, 
planting himself in front of the shivering 
twain. 

“Tompkins,” murmured the blind one 
feebly, tears starting from the blue slits and 
rolling down his cheeks. 

“James, sir,” answered the other, touch- 
ing his damp forelock. 

“ Are they drunk ? ” asked Mrs. De Pey- 
ton, with fresh enthusiasm. 

“No, they are not, poor fellows,” cried 
Penelope. “ They have taken nothing but 
water.” 

“ By Jove, deuced clever that,” drawled 
the duke. “ Eh ? ” to the New Yorker. 

“ Deuced,” from the Knickerbocker. 

“Well, well, what's it all about?” de- 
manded Bazelhurst. 

“ Mr. Shaw, sir,” said James. 

“ Good Lord, could n't you rescue him ? ” 
in horror. 




A Young Man Trespasses 

He rescued us, sir,” mumbled Tomp- 
kins. 

“ You mean — ” 

“ He throwed us in and then had to jump 
in and pull us out, sir. Beggin' 
don, sir, but damn him ! ” 

And you did n’t throw him in, after all ? 
By Jove, extraordinary ! ” 

“ Do you mean to tell us that he threw 
you great hulking creatures into the river ? 
Single-handed ? ” cried Lady Bazelhurst, 
aghast. 

‘‘He did, Evelyn,” inserted Penelope. 
“ I met them coming home, and poor Tomp- 
kins was out of his senses. I don’t know 
how it happened, but — ” 

“It was this way, your ladyship,” put in 
James, the groom. “Tompkins and me 
could see him from the point there, sir, 
afishin’ below the log. So we says to each 
other ‘ Come on,’ and up we went to where 
he was afishin’. Tompkins, bein’ the game 
warden, says he to him ‘ Hi there ! ’ He was 
plainly on our property, sir, afishin’ from a 
boat for bass, sir. ‘ Hello, boys,’ says he 
back to us. ‘ Get off our land,’ says Tomp- 
kins. ‘ I am,' says he ; ‘it ’s water out 



Cowardice Court 


‘^You’re wrong,” broke in Tompkins. 
‘‘ He said ‘ it ’s wet out here where I 

> yy 

am. 

You ’re right. It was wet. Then Tomp- 
kins called him a vile name, your lordship 
— shall 1 repeat it, sir?” 

‘‘ No, no ! ” cried four feminine voices. 

“ Yes, do,” muttered the duke. 

“ He did n’t wait after that, sir. He 
rowed to shore in a flash and landed on our 
land. ‘What do you mean by that?’ he 
said, mad-like. ‘ My orders is to put you 
off* this property,’ says Tompkins, ‘or to 
throw you in the river.’ ‘ Who gave these 
orders?’ asked Mr. Shaw. ‘Lord Bazel- 
hurst, sir, damn you — ’ beg pardon, sir; it 
slipped out. ‘And who the devil is Lord 
Bazelthurst ? ’ said he. ‘ Hurst,’ said Tomp- 
kins. ‘He owns this ground. Can’t you 
see the mottoes on the trees — No Tres- 
passin’?’ — but Mr. Shaw said: ‘ Well, why 
don’t you throw me in the river?’ He 
kinder smiled when he said it. ‘1 will,’ 
says Tompkins, and made a rush for him. 
I don’t just remember why I started in to 
help Tompkins, but I did. Somehow, sir, 
Mr. Shaw got — ” 

“ Don’t call him Mr. Shaw. Just Shaw: 




A Young Man Trespasses 15 

he ’s no gentleman,” exploded Lord Bazel- 
hurst. 

‘‘ But he told us both to call him ‘ Mister,* 
sir, as long as we lived. I kinder got in the 
habit of it, your lordship, up there. That 
is, that *s what he told us after he got through 
with us. Well, anyhow, he got the start of 
us an’ — there’s Tompkins’ eyes, sir, and 
look at my ear. Then he pitched us both 
in the river.” 

“ Good Lord ! ” gasped the duke. 

‘‘ Diable ! ” sputtered the count. 

“ Splendid ! ” cried Penelope, her eyes 
sparkling. 

“ Hang it all. Pen, don’t interrupt the 
count,” snorted Bazelhurst, for want of 
something better to say and perhaps hoping 
that Deveaux might say in French what 
could not be uttered in English. 

Don’t say it in French, count,” said 
little Miss Folsom. “It deserves English.” 

“Go on, James,” sternly, from Lady 
Bazelhurst. 

“ Well, neither of us can swim, you'* 






i6 Cowardice Court 

got a keg of water out of him. Then Mr. 
— er — Shaw told us to go 'ome and get in 
bed, sir.*’ 

“ He sent a message to you, sir,” added 
Tompkins, shivering mightily. 

“ Well, I ’ll have one for him, never fear,” 
said his lordship, glancing about bravely.. 
“ I won’t permit any man to assault my ser- 
vants and brutally maltreat them. No, sir ! 
He shall hear from me — or my attorney.” 

“He told us to tell you, sir, that if he 
ever caught anybody from this place on his 
land he ’d serve him worse than he did us,” 
said Tompkins. 

“He says, ‘ I don’t want no Bazelhursts 
on my place,’ ” added James in finality. 

“ Go to bed, both of you ! ” roared his 
lordship. 

“Very good, sir,” in unison. 

“ They can get to bed without your help, 
I daresay. Pen,” added his lordship causti- 
cally, as she started away with them. Penel- 
ope with a rare blush and — well, one party 
went to luncheon while the other went to 
bed. 

“ I should like to see this terrible Mr. 
Shaw,” observed Penelope at table. “ He’s 
a sort of Jack-the-Giant-Killer, I fancy.” 



A Young Man 


‘‘He is the sort one has to meet in 
America,” lamented her ladyship. 

“Oh, I say now,” expostulated the New 
York young man, wryly. 

“ I don’t mean in good society,” she cor- 
rected, with unconscious irony. 

“ Oh,” said he, very much relieved. 

“ He’s a demmed cad,” said his lordship 
conclusively. 

“ Because he chucked your men into the 
river ? ” asked Penelope sweetly. 

“ She ’s dooced pretty, eh ? ” whispered the 
duke to Mrs. De Peyton without taking 
his eyes from his young countrywoman’s 
face. 

“ Who ? ” asked Mrs. De Peyton. Then 
he relinquished his gaze and turned his mon- 
ocle blankly upon the American beside him. 

“1 shall send him a warning that he’ll 
have to respect, cad or no cad,’ said Bazel- 
hurst, absently spreading butter upon his 
fingers instead of the roll. 

“6’rWhim a warning ? ” asked his queenly 


Q 



Cowardice Court 

and there ’s no end of trouble 1 might get 
into — ” 

1 shall see him myself, if you won’t,” 
said her ladyship firmly. There was frigid 
silence at the table for a full minute, relieved 
only when his lordship’s monocle dropped 
into the glass of water he was trying to con- 
vey to his lips. He thought best to treat 
the subject lightly, so he laughed in his most 
jovial way. 

“You’d better take a mackintosh with 
you, my dear,” he said. “ Remember what 
he told Tompkins and James.” 

“ He will not throw me into the river. It 
might be different if you went. Therefore 
1 think — ” 

“Throw me in, would he?” and Bazel- 
hurst laughed loudly. “ I ’m no groom, 
my dear. You forget that it is possible for 
Mr. Shaw to be soused.” 

“ He was good enough to souse himself 
this morning,” volunteered Penelope. “ I 
rather like him.” 

“ By Jove, Cecil, you ’re not afraid to meet 
him, are you?” asked the duke with tanta- 
lizing coolness. “You know, if you are, 
I ’ll go over and talk to the fellow.” 

“Afraid? Now, hang it all, Barminster, 


A Young Man Trespasses 19 

that’s rather a shabby thing to suggest. 
You forget India.” 

I ’m trying to. Demmed miserable time 
I had out there. But this fellow fights. 
That’s more than the beastly natives did 
when we were out there. Marching is n’t 
fighting, you know.” 

‘‘ Confound it, you forget the time — ” 

“ Mon Dieu, are we to compare ze Hindoo 
harem wiz ze American feest slugger ? ” 
cried the count, with a wry face. 

“ What ’s that ? ” demanded two noble- 
men in one voice. The count apologized 
for his English. 

‘‘No one but a coward would permit this 
disagreeable Shaw creature to run affairs in 
such a high-handed way,” said her ladyship. 
“ Of course Cecil is not a coward.” 

“ Thank you, my dear. Never fear, ladies 
and gentlemen ; I shall attend to this per- 
son. He won’t soon forget what I have 
to say to him,” promised Lord Bazelhurst, 
mentally estimating the number of brandies 
and soda it would require in preparation. 

“ This afternoon ” asked his wife, with 
cruel insistence. 

“Yes, Evelyn — if I can find him.” 

And so it was that shortly after four 



Cowardice Court 

o'clock, Lord Bazelhurst, unattended at his 
own request, rode forth like a Lochinvar, 
his steed headed bravely toward Shaw’s 
domain, his back facing his own home with 
a military indifference that won applause 
from the assembled house , party. 

‘‘1 ’ll face him alone,” he had said, a trifle 
thickly, for some unknown reason, when 
the duke offered to accompany him. It 
also might have been noticed as he cantered 
down the drive that his legs did not stick 
out so stiffly, nor did his person bob so 
exactingly as on previous but peaceful 
expeditions. 

In fact, he seemed a bit limp. But his 
face was set determinedly for the border line 
and Shaw. 





R. SHAW was a tall young man of 
thirty or thereabouts, smooth-faced, good- 
looking and athletic. It was quite true that 
he wore a red coat when tramping through 
his woods and vales, not because it was fash- 
ionable, but because he had a vague horror 
of being shot at by some near-sighted nimrod 
from Manhattan. A crowd of old college 
friends had just left him alone in the hills 
after spending several weeks at his place, 
and his sole occupation these days, aside 
from directing the affairs about the house 
and grounds, lay in the efforts to commune 
with nature by means of a shotgun and a 
fishing-rod. His most constant companion 
was a pipe, his most loyal follower a dog, 

As he sauntered slowly down the river 
road that afternoon, smiling retrospectively 






from time to time as he looked into the 
swift, narrow stream that had welcomed his 
adversaries of the morning, he little thought 
of the encounter in store for him. The 
little mountain stream was called a river by 
courtesy because it was yards wider than the 
brooks that struggled impotently to surpass 
it during the rainy season. But it was deep 
and turbulent in places and it had a roar at 
times that commanded the respect of the 
foolhardy. 

‘‘The poor devils might have drowned, 
eh, Bonaparte ? ” he mused, addressing the 
dog at his side. “ Confounded nuisance, 
getting wet after all, though. Lord Bazel- 
hurst wants war, does he? That log down 
there is the dividing line in our river, eh? 
And I have to stay on this side of it. By 
George, he 's a mean-spirited person. And 
it’s his wife’s land, too. I wonder what 
she’s like. It’s a pity a fellow can’t have 
a quiet, decent summer up here in the hills. 
Still” — lighting his pipe — “ I daresay I can 
give as well as I take. If I stay off his land, 
they’ll have -o keep off of mine. Hullo, 
who’s that? A man, by George, but he 
looks like a partridge. As I live, Bonaparte 
is pointing. Ha, ha, that’s one on you. 







A Young Woman Trespasses 23 

Bony.’' Mr. Shaw stepped into the brush 
at the side of the path and watched the 
movements of the man at the “ log,” now 
less than one hundred yards away. 

Lord Bazelhurst, attired in his brown 
corduroys and his tan waistcoat, certainly 
suggested the partridge as he hopped nimbly 
about in the distant foreground, cocking his 
ears from time to time with all the aloofness 
of that wily bird. He was, strange to relate, 
some little distance from Bazelhurst terri- 
tory, an actual if not a confident trespasser 
upon Shaw’s domain. His horse, however, 
was tethered to a sapling on the safe side of 
the log, comfortably browsing on Bazelhurst 
grass. Randolph Shaw, an unseen observer, 
was considerably mystified by the actions of 
his unusual visitor. 

His lordship paced back and forth with 
a stride that grew firmer as time brought 
forth no hostile impediments. His monocle 
ever and anon was directed both high and 
low in search of Shaw or his henchmen, 
while his face was rapidly resolving itself 
into a bloom of rage. 

“ Confound him,” his lordship was mut- 
tering, looking at his timepiece with stern 
disapproval ; he can’t expect me to wait 


24 


Cowardice Court 


here all day. I ’m on his land and I 'll stay 
here as long as I like." (At this juncture 
he involuntarily measured the distance be- 
tween himself and the log.) “ I knew it 
was all a bluff, his threat to put me off. 
Hang it all, where is the fellow? I won’t 
go up to his beastly house. I won’t gratify 
him by going up there even to give him 
his orders. Demmed cad, blowhard ! Five 
o’clock, confound him ! I daresay he ’s 
seen me and has crawled off into the under- 
brush. He’s afraid of me: he’s a coward. 

It is as I feared. I can’t see the rascal. Jf 
There ’s only one thing left for me to do. 

I ’ll pin a note to this tree. Confound him, he 
shall hear from me ; he ’ll have to read it.’’ 

Whereupon his lordship drew forth a 
large envelope from his pocket and pro- 
ceeded to fasten it to the trunk of a big 
tree which grew in the middle of the road, 
an act of premeditation which showed strange 
powers of prophecy. How could he, ex- 
cept by means of clairvoyance, have known f 
before leaving home that he was not to 
meet his enemy face to face ? 

As Mr. Shaw afterwards read the note 
and tossed it into the river, it is only fair 
that the world should know its contents 


A Young Woman Trespasses 25 

while it hung unfolded to the bark of the 
tall tree. It said, in a very scrawling hand : 
“ Mr. Shaw, I have looked all over this end 
of your land for you this afternoon. You 
doubtless choose to avoid me. So be it. 
Let me state, once and for all, that your 
conduct is despicable. I came here person- 
ally to tell you to keep olF my land, hence- 
forth and for ever. 1 will not repeat this 
warning, but will instead, if you persist, take 
such summary measures as would befit a 
person of your instincts. I trust you will 
feel the importance of keeping off.” To 
this his lordship bravely signed himself. 

“ There,” he muttered, again holding his 
watch and fob up for close inspection. 
‘‘He’ll not soon overlook what I’ve said 
in that letter, confound him.” 

He had not observed the approach of 
Randolph Shaw, who now stood, pipe in 
hand, some twenty paces behind him in the 
road. 

“ What the devil are you doing ? ” de- 
manded a strong bass voice. It had the 
effect of a cannon shot. 

His lordship leaped half out of his cordu- 
roys, turned with agonizing abruptness to- 
ward the tall young man, and gasped “ Oh ! ” 


26 


Cowardice Court 


so shrilly that his horse looked up with a 
start. The next instant his watch dropped 
forgotten from his fingers and his nimble 
little legs scurried for territory beyond the 
log. Nor did he pause upon reaching that 
supposedly safe ground. The swift glance 
he gave the nearby river was significant as 
well as apprehensive. It moved him to 
increased but unpolished haste. 

He leaped frantically for the saddle, scorn- 
ing the stirrups, landing broadside but with 
sufficient nervous energy in reserve to 
scramble on and upward into the seat. 
Once there, he kicked the animal in the 
flanks with both heels, clutching with his 
knees and reaching for the bridle rein in the 
same motion. The horse plunged obedi- 
ently, but came to a stop with a jerk that al- 
most unseated the rider ; the sapling swayed ; 
the good but forgotten rein held firm. 

“ Ha ! ” gasped his lordship as the horrid 
truth became clear to him. 

“Charge, Bonaparte !*' shouted the man 
in the road. 

“ Soldiers ? ** cried the rider with a wild 
look among the trees. 

“My dog,’* called back the other. “ He 
charges at the word.” 


A Young Woman Trespasses 27 

Well, you know, I saw service in the 
army,” apologized his lordship, with a pale 
smile. “ Get ep ! ” to the horse. 

“ What 's your hurry ? ” asked Shaw, 
grinning broadly as he came up to the log. 

“ Don’t — don’t you dare to step over 
that log,” shouted Bazelhurst. 

“ Albright. 1 see. But, after all, what’s 
the rush ? ” The other was puzzled for the 
moment. 

“ 1 ’m practising, sir,” he said unsteadily. 
How to mount on a run, demmit. Can’t 
you see ? ” 

“In case of fire, I imagine. Well, you 
made excellent time. By the way, what has 
this envelope to do with it ? ” - 
“ Who are you, sir? ” 

“ Shaw. And you ? ” 

“You’ll learn when you read that docu- 
ment. Take it home with you.” 

“Ah, yes, 1 see it’s for me. Why don’t 
you untie that hitch rein? And what the 
dickens do you mean by having a hitch rein, 
anyway ? No rider — ” 

“ Confound your impudence, sir, I did 
not come here to receive instructions from 
you, dem you,” cried his lordship defiantly. 
He had succeeded at that moment in sur- 



Cowardice Court 

reptitiously slashing the hitch rein in two 
with his pocketknife. There was nothing 
now to prevent him from giving the ob- 
trusive young man a defiant farewell. “ I 
am Lord Bazelhurst. Good day, sir ! ” 

‘^Just a minute, your lordship,” called 
Shaw. “ No doubt you were timing yourself 
a bit ago, but that 's no reason why you 
should leave your watch on my land. Of 
course, I Ve nothing against the watch, and, 
while I promise you faithfully that any hu- 
man being from your side of the log who 
ventures over on my side shall be ejected in 
one way or another, it would seem senseless 
for me to kick this timepiece into the middle 
of next week.” 

“ Don’t you dare kick that watch. It ’s a 
hundred years old.” 

‘‘ Far be it from me to take advantage of 
anything so old. Don’t you want it any 
longer ? ” 

“ Certainly, sir. I would n’t part from it.” 

“ Then why don’t you come over and get 
it? Do you expect me to break the rule by 
coming over on to your land to hand it to 
? ” 

I should n’t call that trespassing, don’t 
you know,” began his lordship. 





A Young Woman Trespasses 29 

^‘Ah? Nevertheless, if you want this 
watch you 'll have to come over and get it.” 

‘‘By Jove, now, that's a demmed mean 
trick. I 'm mounted. Beastly annoying. I 
say, would you mind tossing it up to me ? '' 

“ I would n't touch it for ten dollars. 
By the way, I 'll just read this note of yours.'' 
Lord Bazelhurst nervously watched him as 
he read ; his heart lightened perceptibly as 
he saw a good-humoured smile struggle to 
the tall young man's face. It was, however, 
with some misgiving that he studied the 
broad shoulders and powerful frame of the 
erstwhile poacher. “ Very good of you, I 'm 
sure, to warn me.” 

“ Good of me ? It was imperative, let 
me tell you, sir. No man can abuse my 
servants and trample all over my land and 
disturb my fish — ” 

“ Excuse me, but I have n't time to listen 
to all that. The note 's sufficient. You 've 
been practising the running mount until it 
looks well nigh perfect to me, so I 'll tell 
you what I 'll do. I 'll step back thirty 
paces and then you come over and get the 
watch — if you 're not afraid of me — and 
I 'll promise — ” 

“ Afraid ^ Demmit, sir, did n't I say I 



30 Cowardice Court 

was Lord Bazelhurst? Of the Guards, sir, 
and the Seventy-first? Conf — '' 

“You come over and get the watch and 
then see if you can get back to the horse 
and mount before I get to the log. If 1 beat 
you there, you lose. How ’s that ? ” 

“ 1 decline to make a fool of myself 
Either you will restore my watch to me, or 
I shall instantly go before the authorities and 
take out a warrant. I came to see you on 
business, sir, not folly. Lady Bazelhurst 
herself would have come had I been otherwise 
occupied, and I want to assure you of her con- 
tempt. You are a disgrace to her country- 
men. If you ever put foot on our land I shall 
have you thrown into the river. Demmit, 
sir, it 's no laughing matter. My watch, sir.” 
“ Come and get it.” 

“ Scalawag ! ” 

“ By George, do you know if you get too 
personal I will come over there.” Randolph 
Shaw advanced with a threatening scowl. 

“ Ha, ha ! ” laughed his lordship shrilly ; 
“ I dare you ! ” He turned his horse’s 
head for home and moved off a yard or 
more. “ Whoa ! Curse you ! This is the 
demdest horse to manage I ’ve ever owned. 
Stand still, confound you ! Whoa ! ” 


A Young Woman Trespasses 31 

“ He’ll stand if you stop licking him.” 
“Halloa! Hey, Bazelhurst I ” came a 
far distant voice. The adversaries glanced 
down the road and beheld two horsemen 
approaching from Bazelhurst Villa — the 
duke and the count. 

“ By Jove!” muttered his lordship, sud- 
denly deciding that it would not be conven- 
ient for them to appear on the scene at its 
present stage. “My friends are calling me. 
Her ladyship doubtless is near at hand. 
She rides, you know — I mean dem you ! 
Would n’t have her see you for a fortune. 
Not another word, sir! You have my 
orders. Stay off or I ’ll — throw you off! ” 
This last threat was almost shrieked and 
was plainly heard by the two horsemen. 

“By Jove, he’s facing the fellow/’ said 
the duke to the count. 

“ Ees eet Shaw ^ Parbleu ! ” 

“ 1 ’ll send some one for that watch. 
Don’t you dare to touch it,” said his lord- 
ship in tones barely audible. Then he 
loped off to meet his friends and turn them 
^ back before they came too close for comfort. 
Randolph Shaw laughed heartily as he 





Cowardice Court 


32 

tracks he picked up the watch and strolled 
off into the woods, taking a short cut for 
the dirt road which led up to his house. 

“ I had him begging for mercy,” ex- 
plained his lordship as he rode along. “ I 
was on his land for half an hour before 
he would come within speaking distance. 
Come along. I need a drink.” 

Young Mr. Shaw came to the road in 
due time and paused, after his climb, to rest 
on a stone at the wayside. He was still a 
mile from home and in the loneliest part 
of his domain. The Bazelhurst line was f 
scarcely a quarter of a mile behind him. 
Trees and underbrush grew thick and im- 
penetrable alongside the narrow, winding 
road ; the light of heaven found it difficult 
to struggle through to the highway below. 
Picturesque but lonely and sombre indeed 
were his surroundings. 

“ Some one coming?” he said aloud, as 
Bonaparte pricked up his ears and looked 
up the road. A moment later a horse and f 
rider turned the bend a hundred yards away 
and came slowly toward him. He started 
to his feet with an exclamation. The rider 
was a woman and she was making her 
way leisurely toward the Bazelhurst lands. 


A Young Woman Trespasses 33 

“ Lady Bazclhurst, I ’ll bet my hat,” 
thought he with a quiet whistle. By 
George, this is awkward. My first tres- 
passer is in petticoats. I say, she ’s a 
beauty — a ripping beauty. Lord, Lord, 
what do such women mean by giving them- 
selves to little rats like Bazelhurst ? Oh, 
the shame of it ! Well, it ’s up to me ! If 
I expect to ^ make good,’ I ’ve just got to 
fire her off these grounds.” 

Naturally he expected to be very polite 
about it — instinctively so; he could not 
have been otherwise. The horsewoman 
saw him step into the middle of the road, 
smiling oddly but deferentially ; her slim 
figure straightened, her colour rose, and there 
was a — yes, there was a relieved gleam in 
her eyes. As she drew near he advanced, 
hat in hand, his face uplifted in his most 
winning smile — savouring more of welcome 
than of repellence. 

I beg your pardon,” he said ; “ doubt- 
less you are not aware that this is proscribed 
land.” 

“Then you are Mr. Shaw?” she asked, 
checking her horse with premeditated sur- 
prise and an emphasis that puzzled him. 

“ Yes, madam,” he responded gravely. 



34 


Cowardice Court 


“ the hated Shaw. Permit me,” and he 
politely grasped the bridle rein. To her 
amazement he deliberately turned and began 
to lead her horse, willy nilly, down the road, 
very much as if she were a child taking her 
first riding lesson. 

“ What are you doing, sir ? ” she ex- 
claimed sharply. There was a queer flutter 
of helplessness in her voice. 

‘‘ Putting you off,” he answered laconi- 
cally. She laughed in delight and he looked 
up with a relieved smile. I ’m glad you 
don’t mind. I have to do it. These feuds 
are such beastly things, you know. One has 
to live up to them whether he likes it or not.” 

So you are putting me off your place ? 
Oh, how lovely ! ” 

‘‘ It isn’t far, you know — just down by 
those big rocks. Your line is there. Of 
course,” he went on politely, “ you know 
that there is a feud.” 

‘‘Oh, yes; I’ve heard you discussed. 
Besides, I met Tompkins and James this 
morning. Pardon me, Mr. Shaw, but I 
•fancy I can get on without being led. 
Would you mind — ” 

“My dear madam, there is no alternative. 
I have taken a solemn vow personally to 


UNG 


OMAN 


ESPASSES 35 

eject all Bazelhurst trespassers from my 
place. You forget that I am, by your 
orders, to be thrown into the river and all 
that. Don’t be alarmed ! I don’t mean to 
throw you into the river.” 

“By my orders? It seems to me that you 
have confused me with Lord Bazelhurst.” 

“ Heaven has given me keener perception, 
your ladyship. I have seen his lordship.” 

“ Ah, may I inquire whether he was par- 
ticularly rough with you this afternoon ? ” 

“ I trust I am too chivalrous to answer 
that question.” 

“ You are quite dry.” 

“ Thank you. I deserve the rebuke, all 
right.” 

. “ Oh, I mean you have n’t been in the 
river.” 

“ Not since morning. Am I walking too 
fast for you ? ” 

“ Not at all. One could n’t ask to be put 
off more considerately.” 

“ By Jove,” he said involuntarily, his ad- 
miration getting the better of him. 

“ I beg your pardon,” with slightly ele- 
vated eyebrows. 

“ Do you know, you ’re not at all what 
I imagined you ’d be.” 



Cowardice Court 

Oh ? And I fancy I 'm not at all whom 
you imagined me to be/' 

‘‘ Heavens ! Am I ejecting an innocent 
bystander? You are Lady Bazelhurst ? " 

“I am Penelope Drake. But" — she 
added quickly — ‘‘I am an enemy. I am 
Lord Bazelhurst’s sister.” 

“You — you don’t mean it?” 

“ Are you disappointed ? I’m sorry.” 

“ I am staggered and — a bit skeptical. 
There is no resemblance.” 

am 2i bit taller,” she admitted carefully. 
“ It is n’t dreadfully immodest, is it, for one 
to hold converse with her captor ? I am 
in your power, you see.” 

“ On the contrary, it is quite the thing. 
The heroine always converses with the villain 
in books. She tells him what she thinks of 
him.” 

“ But this isn’t a book and I’m not a 
heroine. I am the adventuress. Will you 
permit me to explain my presence on your 
land?” 

“No excuse is necessary. You were 
caught red-handed and you don’t have to 
say anything to incriminate yourself further.” 

“But it is scarcely a hundred feet to our 
line. In a very few minutes I shall be 



A Young Woman Trespasses 

hurled relentlessly from your land and may 
never have another chance to tell why I 
dared to venture over here. You see, you 
have a haunted house on your land and 
I — ” She hesitated. 

“ I see. The old Renwood cottage on 
the hill. Been deserted for years. Ren- 
wood brought his wife up here in the moun- 
tains long ago and murdered her. She 
comes back occasionally, they say ; mysteri- 
ous noises and lights and all that. Well.^” 

“Well, I’m very much interested in 
spooks. In spite of the feud I rode over 
here for a peep at the house. Dear me, 
it’s a desolate looking place. I didn’t go 
inside, of course. Why don’t you tear it 
down ? ” 

“ And deprive the ghost of house and 
home? That would be heartless. Besides, 
it serves as an attraction to bring visitors to 
my otherwise unalluring place. I ’m terribly 
sorry the fortunes of war prevent me from 
offering to take you through the house. 
But as long as you remain a Bazelhurst I 
can’t neglect my vow. Of course, I don’t 
mean to say that you can t come and do what 
you please over here, but you shall be recog- 
nized and treated as a trespasser.” 





Q 




Cowardice Court 


38 

“ Oh, that ’s just splendid ! Perhaps 1 
come to-morrow.” 

‘‘ I shall be obliged to escort you from the 
grounds, you know.” 

Yes, I know,” she said agreeably. He 
looked dazed and delighted. “ Of course, 
I shall come with stealth and darkly. Not 
even my brother shall know of my plans.” 

“ Certainly not,” he said with alacrity. 
(They were nearing the line.) “ Depend on 


“ Depend on you ? Your only duty is to 
scare me off the place.” ^ 

“That's what 1 mean. I 'll keep sharp Y 
watch for you up at the haunted house.” 

“ It 's more than a mile from the line,” 
she advised him. 

“ Yes, I know,” said he, with his friend- 
liest smile. “ Oh, by the way, would you 
mind doing your brother a favour. Miss 
Drake? Give him this watch. He — er — he 
must have dropped it while pursuing me.” 

“ You ran? ” she accepted the watch with 
surprise and unbelief 

“Here is the line. Miss Drake,” he 
evaded- “ Consider yourself ignominiously 
ejected. Have I been unnecessarily rough 
and expeditious ? ” 



A Young Woman Trespasses 39 

You have had a long and tiresome walk,” 
she said, settling herself for a merry clip. 
“ Please don’t step on our side.” He re- 
leased the bridle rein and doffed his hat. 

“ I shall bring my horse to-morrow,” he 
remarked significantly. 

“ I may bring the duke,” she said sweetly. 

“In that case I shall have to bring an 
extra man to lead his horse. It won’t 
matter.” 

“ So this rock is the dividing line ? ” 

“Yes; you are on the safe side now — 
and so am I, for that matter. The line is 
here,” and he drew a broad line in the dust 
from one side of the road to the other. 
“ My orders are that you are not to ride 
across that line, at your peril.” 

“ And you are not to cross it either, at 
your peril.” 

“ Do you dare me ? ” with an eager step 
forward. 

“ Good-bye.” 

“ Good-bye ! I say, are you sure you can 
find the Renwood cottage ? ” he called after 
her. The answer came back through the 
clatter of hoofs, accompanied by a smile that 
seduced his self-possession. 

“ I shall find it in time.” 


40 


Cowardice Court 



For a long time he stood watching her as 
she raced down the road. 

‘‘ At my peril/' he mused, shaking his 
head with a queer smile. “ By George, that 's 
fair warning enough. She ’s beautiful." 

At dinner that night the Honourable Pen- 
elope restored the watch to her brother, much 
to his embarrassment, for he had told the 
duke it was being repaired in town. 

It was n’t this watch that I meant, old 
chap," he announced, irrelevantly, to the 
duke, quite red in the face. “ Where did 
you find it. Pen ? ’’ She caught the plea in 
his eye and responded loyally. 

‘‘You dropped it, I daresay, in pursuing 
Mr. Shaw." 

The positive radiance which followed dis- 
may in his watery eyes convinced her beyond 
all doubt that her brother’s encounter with 
the tall Mr. Shaw was not quite creditable to 
Bazelhurst arms. She listened with pensive 
indifference to the oft-repeated story of how 
he had routed the “ insufferable cad," 
couraged by the support of champagne and 
the solicited approval of two eye-witnesses. 
She could not repress the mixed feelings of 
scorn, shame, and pity, as she surveyed the 
array of men who so mercilessly flayed the 




A Young Woman Trespasses 41 

healthy, fair-faced young man with the gentle 
strength. 

The house party had been augmented 
during the day by the arrival of half a dozen 
men and women from the city, brain-fagged, 
listless, and smart. The big cottage now 
was full, the company complete for three 
weeks at least. She looked ahead, this 
fresh, vigorous young Englishwoman, and 
wondered how she was to endure the stale- 
ness of life. 

There was some relief in the thought that 
the men would make love to the good- 
looking young married women — at least 
part of the time — and — but it depressed 
her in turn to think of the left-over hus- 
bands who would make love to her. 

“ Why is it that Evelyn does n’t have 
real men here — like this Mr. Shaw ? ” she 
found herself wondering vaguely as the night 




Q 


Q 



CHAPTER III 

IN WHICH A DOG TRESPASSES 


Penelope was a perverse and calculat- 
ing young person. She was her own mis- 
tress and privileged to ride as often as she 
pleased, but it seemed rather odd — although 
splendidly decorous — that she did not ven- 
ture upon Mr. Shaw’s estate for more than 
a week after her first encounter with the 
feudal baron. If she found a peculiarly femi- 
nine satisfaction in speculating on his dis- 
appointment, it is not to be wondered at. 
Womanly insight told her that Randolph 
Shaw rode forth each day and watched with 
hawk-like vigilance for the promised tres- 
passer. In her imagination, she could almost 
hear him curse the luck that was helping her 
to evade the patrol. 

One morning, after a rain, she rode with 
the duke to the spot where Shaw had drawn 


In Which a Dog Trespasses 43 

his line in the road. She felt a thrill of 
something she could not define on discover- 
ing that the wet soil on the opposite side of 
the line was disfigured by a mass of fresh 
hoof-prints. She rejoiced to find that his 
vigil was incessant and worthy of the respect 
it imposed. The desire to visit the haunted 
house was growing more and more irresisti- 
ble, but she turned it aside with all the 
relentless perverseness of a woman who feels 
it worth while to procrastinate. 

Truth to tell, Randolph Shaw was going 
hollow-eyed and faint in his ceaseless, rack- 
ing watch for trespassers. 

Penelope laughed aloud as she gazed 
upon the tangle of hoof-prints. The duke 
looked as surprised as it was possible for 
him to look after the wear of the past 
night. 

Hang it all, Penelope,’' he said. “ I 
did n’t say anything, don’t you know.” 

“ I was just thinking,” she said hastily, 
what fun it would be for us to explore the 
haunted house.” 

Oh, I say. Pen, that’s going out of the 
way for a little fun, is n’t it ? My word, it ’s 
a filthy old house with rats and mice and all 
that — no place for a ghost, much less a nice 




Q 


b 



Cowardice Court 

little human being like you. They 're 
like that." 

• I think you are afraid 
she. 

’ Afraid of ghosts ^ Pshaw ! " sniffed the 
duke, sticking out his chest. 

^ Yes, Shaw ! That 's whom you 're afraid 
of." 

“Now, see her-e. Pen, you should n't say 
that. Shaw 's a d — , a cad. See what Cecil 
did to him. Remember that? Well, pooh! 
What would / do to him ? " Penelope 
looked him over critically. 

“ I 'll admit that you 're larger and younger 
than Cecil," she confessed grudgingly. “ But 
they say Mr. Shaw is a giant-killer." The 
duke dropped his monocle and guffawed 
loudly. 

“ Good!" he cried in the ecstasy of pride. 
His worn, dissipated face lighted up with 
unwonted interest. “ I say. Pen, that 's the 
nicest thing you 've said to me in a week. 
You Ve been so deuced cold of late. I 
don't understand. I 'm not such a bad lot, 
you know." 

“ Tell that to Mrs. De Peyton and Mrs. 
Corwith. They 're looking for the good in 
everything." 




In Which a Dog Trespasses 45 

“ By Jove, I believe you 're jealous I This 
is the proudest moment of my life." 

“ Don’t be silly ! And don’t try to make 
love to me any more. Wait until I ’m mar- 
ried,’’ she added with a laugh, the irony of 
which escaped him. 

‘‘ But, hang it all, suppose you should 
marry some one else and not me.’’ 

“ That’s what I mean.’’ 

Oh ! ’’ he said, perplexed. Theft, as if 
his stupidity called for an explanation : I 
had a beastly night. Did n’t go to bed till 
four. But, I say, why can’t I have the same 
privilege as these other chaps ? Corwith 
makes love to you and so does Odwell, and, 
hang it, they ’re both married. It ’s rotten 
mean of — ’’ 

“ Their wives are accountable for their 
manners, not I. But, come; will you go to 
Kenwood’s with me ? ’’ 

I ’d rather talk to you in that nice little 
corner of the billiard-room at home, if 
you — 

“But I don’t need a brandy and soda. 
Oh ! ’’ This exclamation came with the dis- 
covery of an approaching horseman. “ It’s 
Mr. Shaw — I ’m sure.’’ 

Randolph Shaw, loyal to his feudal prom- 




Cowardice Court 



0 


ise, appeared in the road a couple of hundred 
yards away. He drew rein and from that 
distance surveyed the two who were so near 
to encroaching upon his preserves. He sat 
straight and forbidding in the saddle. For 
a full minute the two factions stared at each 
other. Then, without a sign of recognition, 
Shaw turned and rode rapidly away. 

‘‘ He rides like a gentleman,” commented 
Miss Drake, after reflection. 

“Indian blood in him,” remarked her 
companion. 

“ Let us go home,” said she, whirling her 
horse like a flash. The duke had some 
difliculty in keeping abreast of her during 
the ride and he lost sight of her alto- 
gether after they dismounted at Bazelhurst 
Villa. 

The momentary glimpse of a real man set 
Penelope’s opinions on edge for the remain- 
der of the day and night. Shaw, whatever 
else he might be, was a man. Even while 
others addressed her in conversation she was 
absent-mindedly recalling to memory certain 
English gentlemen at home who could stand 
comparison with this handsome fellow across 
the danger line. But to compare any one 
of the men in Lady Bazelhurst’s house 




In Which a Dog Trespasses 47 

parcy — oh, it was absurd! She looked 
them over. Dull-eyed, blase, frayed by 
the social whirl, worn out, pulseless, all of 
them. They talked automobile, bridge, 
women, and self in particular; in the seclu- 
sion of a tete-a-tete they talked love with 
an ardour that lost most of its danger because 
it was from force of habit. One of the men 
was even now admitting in her ear that he 
had not spent an evening alone with his wife 
in four years. 

“ There 's always something doing,” he 
said. “A week or two ago, by Jove, you 
would n’t believe it, but we had an evening 
turn up without a thing on hand. Strangest 
thing I ever knew. Neither of us had a 
thing on. We said we’d stay at home and 
go to bed early, just to see how it felt. 
Well, what do you think ? We sat up and 
read till half past ten o’clock and then both 
of us thought of it at . the same time. We 
dressed and went down to Rector’s and 
waited for the theatres to let out. Three 







Cowardice Court 


48 

Both of them glanced over at pretty Mi-s. 
Odwell. She was looking down at her 
plate demurely while Reggie Van Voort , 
talked straight into her pink ear, his eyes 
gleaming with the zest of invasion. 1 
say, Miss Drake, you won’t mind talking 
to me awhile after dinner, will you ? ” 
went on Odwell, something like relief in 
his voice. 

After dinner she was obliged to set him 
straight in a little matter. They were sitting 
on the terrace and he had thrown away his 
half-smoked cigarette, an act in itself signifi- 
cant. She had been listening patiently, from 
sheer habit and indifference, to what he was 
saying, but at last she revolted. 

“ Don’t ! You shall not say such things 
to me. I am not your kind, I fancy, Mr. 
Odwell,” she said. ‘‘ 1 don’t know why you 
should tell me of your chorus-girl friends — 
of your suppers and all that. I don’t care 
to hear of them and I don’t intend that you 
shall use me as a subject of illustration. I 
am going upstairs.” 

“ Oh, come now, that ’s rather rough, just 
as we were getting on so well. All the 
fellows do the same — ” 

‘‘ I know. You need not tell me. And 




In Which a Dog Trespasses 49 

you all have wives at home, too,’* with in- 
tense scorn. 

“Now, that’s where you wrong us. 
They ’re not at home, you know. That ’s 
just it.” 

/“Never mind, Mr. Odwell; I’m going 
in.” She left him and entered the house. 
For a minute or two he looked after her in 
wonder, and then, softly whistling, made his 
way over to where De Peyton, through some 
oversight, was talking to his own wife. De 
Peyton unceremoniously announced that he 
was going upstairs to write a letter. 

Penelope, flushed with disgust and humili- 
ation, drew near a crowd of men and women 
in the long living-room. Her brother was 
haranguing the assemblage, standing forth 
among them like an unconquered bantam. 
In spite of herself, she felt a wave of shame 
and pity creep over her as she looked at 
him. 

“ Barminster says the fellow ran when he 
saw him to-day,” his lordship was saying. 
“ But that does n’t help matters. He has 
been on my land again and again, Tomp- 
kins says, and Tompkins ought to know.” 

“ And James, too,” said the duke with a 
brandied roar. 

4 


so 


OWARDICE 


OURT 


“ Can’t Tompkins and his men keep that 
man off my land ? ” demanded Lady Bazel- 
hurst. Every one took note of the pro- 
noun. Her ladyship’s temples seemed to 
narrow with hatred. Bazel hurst had told 
the men privately that she was passing sleep- 
less nights in order to “ hate that fellow 
Shaw ” to her full capacity. 

“ My dear, I have given positive orders 
to Tompkins and he swears he’ll carry them 
out,” said he hastily. 

“I suppose Tompkins is to throw him 
into the river again.” 

‘‘ He is to shoot that fellow Shaw if he 
does n’t keep off our land. I ’ve had enough 
of it. They say he rode his confounded 
plough horse all over the west end the 
other day.” Penelope smiled reflectively. 
‘‘Trampled the new fern beds out of exist- 
ence and all that. Hang him, Tompkins 
will get him if he persists. He has told the 
men to take a shot at the rascal on sight. 
Tompkins doesn’t love him, you know.” 

Penelope went her way laughing and — 
forgot the danger that threatened Randolph 
Shaw. 

The next morning, quite early, she was 
off for a canter. Some magnetic force drew 


In Which a Dog Trespasses 51 

her toward that obliterated line in the road- 
way. Almost as she came up to it and 
stopped, Randolph Shaw rode down the 
hillside through the trees and drew rein 
directly opposite, the noses of their horses 
almost touching. With a smile he gave the 
military salute even as she gasped in self- 
conscious dismay. 

“On duty. Miss Drake. No trepass- 
ing,” he said. There was a glad ring in 
his voice. “ Please don’t run away. You ’re 
on the safe side.” 

“ I ’m not going to run,” she said, her 
cheek flushing. “How do you know where 
the line is ? It has been destroyed by the 
ravages of time.” 

“Yes. It has seemed a year. This thing 
of acting sentinel so religiously is a bit wear- 
ing.” His great, friendly dog came across 
the line, however, and looked bravely up 
into the enemy’s face, wagging his tail. 
“Traitor! Come back, Bonaparte,” cried 
his master. 

“ What a beautiful dog,” she cried, sin- 
cere admiration in her eyes. “ I love a 
big dog. He is your best friend, I ’ll 
wager.” 

“ ‘ Love me, love my dog,’ is mv motto.” 



Cowardice Court 

The conversation was not prolonged. 
Penelope began to find herself on rather 
friendly terms with the enemy. Confusion 
came over her when she remembered that 
she was behaving in a most unmaidenly 
manner. Doubtless that was why she 
brought the meeting to a close by gallop- 
ing away. 

The ways of fortune are strange, look at 
them from any point of view. Surprising 
as it may seem, a like encounter happened 
on the following day and — aye, on the day 
after and every day for a week or more. 
Occasions there were when Penelope was 
compelled to equivocate shamefully in order 
to escape the companionship of the duke, 
the count, or others of their ilk. Once, 
when the guardian of the road was late at 
his post, she rode far into the enemy’s coun- 
try, actually thrilled by the joy of adventure. 
When he appeared far down the road, she 
turned and fled with all the sensations of a 
culprit. And he thundered after her with 
vindictiveness that deserved better results. 
Across the line she drew rein and faced 
him defiantly, her hair blown awry, her 
cheeks red, her eyes sparkling. 

‘^No trespass ! ” she cried, holding up her 






In Which a Dog Trespasses 

gloved hand. He stopped short, for that 
was one of the .terms of truce. 

The next day he again was missing, but 
she was not to be caught by his stratagem. 
Instead of venturing into the trap he had 
prepared for her, she remained on her side 
of the line, smiling at the thought of him 
in hiding far up the road. If any one had 
suggested to her that she was developing too 
great an interest in this stalwart gentleman, 
she would have laughed him to scorn. It 
had not entered her mind to question her- 
self as to the pleasure she found in being 
near him. She was founding her actions on 
the basis that he was a real man and that the 
little comedy of adventure was quite worth 
while. 

At length an impatient line appeared on 
her fair brow, a resentful gleam in her eyes. 
His remissness was an impertinence ! It was 
the last time she would come — but a sudden 
thought struck her like a blow. She turned 
white and red by turns. Had he tired of 
the sport? Had the novelty worn off? 
Was he laughing at her for a silly co- 
quette.^ The riding crop cam- down 
sharply upon her horse’s flank and a very 
deeply agitated young woman galloped off 


% 


9 


9 



54 Cowardice Court 

toward Bazelhurst Villa, hurrying as though 
afraid he might catch sight of her in flight. 

A quarter of a mile brought a change in 
her emotions. British stubbornness arose 
to combat an utter rout. After all, why 
should she run away from him ? With 
whimsical bravado, she turned off suddenly 
into the trail that led to the river, her colour 
deepening with the consciousness that, after 
all, she was vaguely hoping she might see 
him somewhere before the morning passed. 
Through the leafy pathway she rode at a 
snail’s pace, brushing the low-hanging leaves 
and twigs from about her head with some- 
thing akin to petulance. As she neared the 
river the neighing of a horse hard by caused 
her to sit erect with burning ears. Then she 
relapsed into a smile, remembering that it 
might have come from the game warden’s 
horse. A moment later her searching eyes 
caught sight of Shaw’s horse tied to a 
sapling and on Bazelhurst ground, many 
hundred feet from his own domain. She 
drew rein sharply and looked about in con- 
siderable trepidation. Off to the right lay 
the log that divided the lands, but nowhere 
along the bank of the river could she see 
the trespasser. Carefully she resumed her 


In Which a Dog Trespasses 55 

way, ever on the lookout, puzzled not a little 
by the unusual state of affairs. 

Near the river trail she came upon the 
man, but he paid no heed to her approach. 
He sat with his face in his hands and — she 
could not believe her eyes and ears — he 
was sobbing bitterly. For an instant her 
lips curled in the smile of scornful triumph 
and then something like disgust came over 
her. There was mockery in her voice as 
she called out to him. 

“Have you stubbed your toe, little boy?” 

He looked up, dazed. Then he arose, 
turning his back while he dashed his hand 
across his eyes. When he glanced back at 
her he saw that she was smiling. But she 
also saw something in his face that drove 
the smile away. Absolute rage gleamed in 
his eyes. 

“So it is real war,” he said hoarsely, his 
face quivering. “Your pitiful cowards want 
it to be real, do they ? Well, that ’s what 
it shall be, hang them ! They shall have 
all they want of it ! Look ! This is their 
way of fighting, is it ? Look ! ” 

He pointed to his feet. Her bewildered 
eyes saw that his hand was bloody and a 
deathly sickness came over her. He was 







56 Cowardice Court 

pointing to the outstretched, inanimate form 
of the dog that had been his friend and 
comrade. She knew that the beast was 
dead and she knew that her brother’s threat 
had not been an idle one. A great wave of 
pity and horror swept over her. Moisture 
sprang to her eyes on the moment. 

‘‘ He — he is dead ^ ” she exclaimed. 

^Yes — and killed by some cowardly 
brute whose neck I’d like to wring. That 
dog — my Bonaparte — who knew no feud, 
who did no wrong! Your brother wants 
war, does he? Well, I ’ll give him all — ” 
“ But my brother could not have done a 
thing like this,” she cried, slipping from her 
saddle and advancing toward him quickly. 

^Oh, no, no 1 Not this! He is not that 
sort, I know. It must have been an acci- 
dent and — ” 

“ Accident ! Don’t come near me ! I 
mean it. God, my heart is too full of ven- 
geance. Accident? Is this blood on my 
arm accidental ? Bah ! It was a deliberate 





In Which a Dog Trespa 

‘‘ Let me see 
cried, coming 
and terrified. “ I 
are hurt. Please ! 
enemy.” 

For a long minute he h 
resentful, glowering upon her, then his face 
softened and his hand went out to clasp 
hers. 

“ I knew you had nothing to do with it. 
Forgive me — forgive my rudeness. Don’t 
be alarmed about me. Two or three scat- 
tered shot struck me in the arm. The 
fellow’s aim was bad when it came to me. 
But he — he got the dog ! Poor old Bona- 
parte ! It’s as if he were a — a brother. 
Miss Drake. I loved him and he loved 
me.” 

“ You must let me see 
not take no for 
attention — ” 

‘‘ Believe me, it is nothing. I have tied 
my handkerchief about it — two little shot, 
that’s all. The first charge riddled the dog. 
But I forget. I am still on your sister’s 
land. At any minute I may be shot from 
behind some tree. I — I could n’t help 
crying. Miss Drake. It was cruel — fiend- 



your arm. I will 
an answer. It must need 




58 Cowardice Court 

ish ! Now, if you’ll permit me, I ’ll take 
my dead off of your land.” 

‘‘ Stop ! I must know about it. Tell 
me; how did it happen?” 

“1 can’t talk about it to you.” 

“ Why not ? Do you think I condone 
this outrage? Do you think I can support 
such means of warfare ? You do not know 
me, Mr. Shaw ; you do not know an Eng- 
lishwoman’s love of fairness.” 

“By Jove, do you mean it?” his eyes 
lighted up. “But, after all, you belong to 
the other camp,” he added dejectedly. “ I 
— I wish to heaven. Miss Drake, you were 
not one of them ! ” 

“ My brother — Cecil would not have 
permitted this,” she tried to apologize, re- 
membering with a cold heart that Lord 
Bazelhurst had given the very instruction's 
of which this was the result. 

“ We can’t discuss it. Miss Drake. Some 
one from your side of the line killed my 
dog and then fired at me. I’ll admit I was 
trespassing, but not until the dog was shot. 
He was on Lady Bazelhurst’s land when he 
was shot. It was not until after that that 
I trespassed, if you are pleased to call it 
such. But I was unarmed; hang the luck! ” 




In Which a Dog Trespasses 59 

The way he said it conveyed much to her 
understanding. 

“Tell me, please.’’ 

“ I ’ve had murder in my heart for half an 
hour, Miss Drake. Somehow you soothe 
me.” He sat down on the log again and 
leaned his head upon his hand. With his 
eyes upon the dead dog he went on, con- 
trolling his anger with an effort : “ I rode 
down the river road this morning for a 
change, intending to go up later on to our 
trysting place through the wood.” She 
heard him call it a trysting place without a 
thought of resentment or shame. “ When 
I came to the log there I stopped, but 
Bonaparte, lawless old chap, kept on. I 
paid no attention to him, for 1 was thinking 
of — of something else. He had raced 
around in the forbidden underbrush for 
some time before I heard the report of 
a gun near at hand. The dog actually 
screamed like a human being. I saw him 
leap up from the ground and then roll over. 
Of course, I — well, I trespassed. Without 
thinking of my own safety I flew to where 
the dog was lying. He looked up into my 
face and whined just as he died. I don’t 
remember how I got off the horse. The 


10 




,Q 







Cowardice Court 

next I knew I was rushing blindly into the 
brush toward a place where I saw smoke, 
cursing like a fiend. Then came the second 
shot and the stinging in my arm. It brought 
me to my senses. 1 stopped and a moment 
later I saw a man running down along the 
bank of the stream. I — oh, well, there 
is n’t any more to tell. I don’t know 
who fired the shots. I could n’t see his 
face.” 

“ It was Tompkins,” she cried. I know 
it was. He had his orders — ” but she 
checked herself in confusion. 

“ His orders ? Do you mean to say — 
Miss Drake, did your brother instruct him 
to kill me ? ” She quailed beneath his 
look. 

‘‘I — I can’t say anything more about it, 
Mr. Shaw,” she murmured, so piteously that 
he was touched. For a seemingly intermin- 
able length of time his hard eyes looked into 
hers and then they softened. 

‘‘ I understand,” he said simply. “ You 
cannot talk about it. I ’ll not ask any 

‘‘My brother is weak in her hands,” she 
managed to say in extenuation. 

“ After all, it is n’t a pleasant subject. If 





In Which a Dog Trespasses 

you don’t mind, we’ll let it drop — that is, 
between you and me. Miss Drake. I hope 
the war won’t break off our — ” 

Don’t suggest it, please ! I ’d rather 
you would n’t. We are friends, after all. 
I thought it was playing at war — and I 
can’t tell you how shocked I am.” 

“ Poor old Bonaparte ! ” was all he said in 
reply. She stooped and laid her hand on 
the fast-chilling coat of the dog. There were 
tears in her eyes as she arose and turned 
away, moving toward her horse. Shaw 
deliberately lifted the dead animal into his 
arms and strode off toward his own land. 
She followed after a moment of indecision, 
leading the horse. Across the line he went 
and up the side of the knoll to his right. 
At the foot of a great tree he tenderly 
deposited his burden. Then he turned to 
find her almost beside him. 

You won’t mind my coming over here, 
will you ? ” she asked softly. He reached 
out and clasped her hand, thoughtlessly, with 
his blood-covered fingers. It was not until 
long afterward that she discovered his blood 
upon the hand from which she had drawn 
her riding glove. 

“ Tou are always welcome ” he said. ‘‘ I 





62 


Cowardice Court 


am going to bury him here this afternoon. 
No, please don’t come. I ’ll bring the men 
down to help me. I suppose they think 
I ’m a coward and a bounder over at your 
place. Do you remember the challenge you 
gave me yesterday ? You dared me to come 
over the line as far into Bazelhurst land as 
you had come into mine. Well, I dared 
last night.” 

“You dared? You came?” 

“Yes, and I went farther than you have 
gone, because I thought it was play, comedy, 
fun. I even sat upon your gallery, just 
outside the billiard-room — and smoked 
two cigarettes. You ’ll find the stubs on the 
porch railing if her ladyship’s servants are 
not too exemplary.” She was looking at 
him in wide-eyed unbelief. “ I was there 
when you came out on the lawn with the 
Frenchman.” 

“Did you hear what he was — what we 
were saying ? ” she asked, nervously and 
going pale. 

“No. I was not eavesdropping. Be- 
sides, you returned to the house very 
abruptly, if you remember.” 

“ Yes, I remember,” she said, a sigh of 
relief accompanying the warm glow that came 


to her cheek. ‘‘ But were you not afraid of 
being discovered? How imprudent of 

I ’ > 

you ! 

‘‘It was a bit risky, but I rather enjoyed 
it. The count spoke to me as I left the 
place. It was dark and he mistook me for 
one of your party. I could n’t wait to see 
if you returned to renew the tete-a-tete — ” 
“ I did not return,” she said. It was his 
turn to be relieved. 





Lord and' Lady Bazelhurst, with the 
more energetic members of their party, 
spent the day in a so-called hunting ex- 
cursion to the hills south of the Villa. 
Toward nightfall they returned success- 
fully empty-handed and rapacious for bridge. 
Penelope, full of smouldering anger, had 
spent the afternoon in her room, disdaining 
every call of sociability. She had awakened 
to the truth of the situation in so far as she 
was concerned. She was at least seeing 
things from Shaw’s point of view. Her 
resentment was not against the policy of 
her brother but the overbearing, petulant 
tyranny of her American sister-in-law. From 
the beginning she had disliked Evelyn ; now 
she despised her. With the loyal simplicit) 
of a sister she absolved Cecil of all real 





In Which Truth Trespasses 65 

blame in the outrage of the morning, attrib- 
uting everything to the cruelty and envy 
of the despot who held the purse-strings 
from which dangled the pliable fortunes of 
Bazelhurst. The Bazelhursts, one and all 
— ancestors thrown in — swung back and 
forth on the pendulum of her capriciousness. 
Penelope, poor as a church mouse, was 
almost wholly dependent upon her brother, 
who in turn owed his present affluence to 
the more or less luckless movement of the 
matrimonial market. The girl had a small, 
inadequate income — so small it was almost 
worth jesting about. 

Here was Penelope, twenty-two, beautiful, 
proud, fair-minded, and healthy, surveying 
herself for the first time from a new and an 
entirely different point of view. She was 
not pleased with the picture. She began 
to loathe herself more than she pitied her 
brother. Something like a smile came into 
her clouded face as she speculated on Ran- 
dolph Shaw’s method of handling Evelyn 
Banks had she fallen to him as a wife. The 
quiet power in that man’s face signified the 
presence of a manhood that — ah, and just 
here it occurred to her that Lady Bazelhurst 
felt the force of that pov er even though she 
5 



66 


Cowardice Court 


never had seen the man. She hated him 
because he was strong enough to oppose her. 
to ignore her, to laugh at her impotence. 

The smouldering anger and a growing 
sense of fairness combined at length in the 
determination to take her brother and his 
wife to task for the morning’s outrage, let 
the consequences be what they might. When 
she joined the people downstairs before din- 
ner, there was a red spot in each cheek and 
a steady look in her eyes that caused the 
duke to neglect woefully the conversation 
he was carrying on with Mrs. Odwell. 

Dinner was delayed for nearly half an 
hour while four of the guests finished their 
“ rubber.” Penelope observed that the 
party displayed varying emotions. It after- 
wards transpired that the hunters had spent 
most of the afternoon in her ladyship’s dis- 
tant lodge playing bridge for rather high 
stakes. Little Miss Folsom was pitifully 
unresponsive to the mirth of Mr. Odwell. 
She could ill afford to lose six hundred 
dollars. Lady Bazelhurst was in a frightful 
mood. Her guests had so far forgotten 
themselves as to win more than a thousand 
dollars of the Banks legacy and she was not 
a cheerful loser, — especially as his lordship 


In Which Truth Trespasses 67 

had dropped an additional five hundred. 
The winners were riotously happy. They 
had found the sport glorious. An observer, 
given to deductions, might have noticed that 
half of the diners were immoderately hila- 
rious, the other half studiously polite. 

Lord Bazelhurst wore a hunted look and 
drank more than one or two highballs. 
From time to time he cast furtive glances at 
his wife. He laughed frequently at the 
wrong time and mirthlessly. 

“ He ’s got something on his mind,” 
whispered Odwell in comment. 

‘‘Yes; he always laughs when there is 
anything on his mind,” replied Mrs. De 
Peyton. “ That ’s the wav he gets it 
off.” 

After dinner no one proposed cards. The 
party edged off into twos and threes and 
explained how luck had been with or against 
them. Penelope, who could not afford to 
play for stakes, and had the courage to say 
so, sat back and listened to the conversation 
of her brother and the group around him. 
The duke was holding forth on the superi- 
ority of the Chinese over the Japanese as 
servants and Bazelhurst was loudly defend- 
ing the Japanese navy. 


68 


Cowardice Court 


Hang it all, Barminster, the Japs could 
eat ’em up,” he proclaimed. “ Could n’t 
they ? ” to the crowd. 

I ’m talking about servants, Cecil,” ob- 
served the duke. 

‘‘ And shoot ? Why, they ’re the greatest 
gunners in the world. By Jove, I read 
somewhere the other day that they had hit 
what they shot at three million times out of 
— or, let me see, was it the Prussians who 
fired three million rounds and — ” 

“ Oh, let ’s change the subject,” said the 
duke in disgust. “ What ’s become of 
that Shaw fellow ^ ” Penelope started and 
fiushed, much to her chagrin. At the sound 
of Shaw’s name Lady Bazelhurst, who was 
passing with the count, stopped so abruptly 
that her companion took half a dozen paces 
without her. • 

‘‘ Shaw ? By Jove, do you know, I ’d 
completely forgotten that fellow,” exclaimed 
Cecil. 

1 thought you were going to shoot him, 
or shoot at him, or something like that. 
Can’t you get him in range ? ” 

“ Oh, I was n’t really in earnest about that, 
Barminster. You know we could n’t shoot 
at a fellow for such a thing — ” 





In Which Truth Trespasses 69 

‘‘ Nonsense, Cecil,’' said his wife. “ You 
shoot poachers in England.” 

“ But this fellow is n’t a poacher. He ’s 
a — a gentleman, I daresay — in some re- 
spects — not all, of course, my dear, but — ” 

“ Gentleman ? Ridiculous ! ” scoffed his 
wife. 

‘‘I — yes, quite right — a ridiculous gen- 
tleman, of course. Ha, ha ! Is n’t he, 
Barminster ? But with all that, you know, 
I couldn’t have Tompkins shoot him. 
He asked me the other day if he should 
take a shot at Shaw’s legs, and I told 
him not to do anything so absurd.” Penel- 
ope’s heart swelled with relief, and for 
the first time that evening she looked upon 
her brother with something like sisterly 
regard. 

‘‘It didn’t matter, however,” said Lady 
Evelyn sharply. “ I gave him instructions 
yesterday to shoot any trespasser from that 
side of the line. I can’t see that we owe 
Mr. Shaw any especial consideration. He 
has insulted and ignored me at every oppor- 
tunity. Why should he be permitted to 
trespass more than any other common law- 
breaker? If he courts a charge of birdshot 
he should not expect to escape scot free. 




9 


Q 



70 


Cowardice Court 


Birdshot would n’t kill a man, you know, 
but it would — ” 

But Penelope could restrain herself no 
longer. The heartlessness of her sister-in- 
law overcame her prudence, and she inter- 
rupted the scornful mistress of the house, 
her eyes blazing, but her voice under perfect 
control. Her tall young figure was tense, 
and her fingers clasped the back of Miss 
Folsom’s chair rather rigidly. 

‘‘ I suppose you know what happened 
this morning,” she said, with such apparent 
restraint that every one looked at her 
expectantly. 

Do you mean in connection with Mr. — 
with Jack-the-Giant-Killer ? ” asked her lady- 
ship, her eyes brightening. 

“ Some one of your servants shot him this 
morning,” said Penelope with great distinct- 
ness. There was breathless silence in the 
room. 

Shot him ? ” gasped Lord Bazelhurst, 
his thin red face going very white. 

“Not — not fatally ? ” exclaimed Evelyn, 
aghast in spite of herself. 

“ No. The instructions were carried out. 
His wound in the arm is trifling. But the 
coward was not so generous when it came to 


In Which Truth Trespasses 71 

the life of his innocent, harmless dog. He 
killed the poor thing. Evelyn, it's — it's 
like murder." 

Oh," cried her ladyship, relieved. “ He 
killed the dog. I daresay Mr. Shaw has 
come to realize at last that we are earnest 
in this. Of course I am glad that the man 
is not badly hurt. Still, a few shot in the 
arm will hardly keep him in bounds. His 
legs were intended," she laughed lightly. 
“ What miserable aim Tompkins must 
take." 

‘‘ He 's a bit off in his physiology, my 
dear," said Cecil, with a nervous attempt at 
humour. He did not like the expression in 
his sister's face. Somehow, he was ashamed. 

“Oh, it's bad enough," said Penelope. 
“It was his left arm — the upper arm, too. 
I think the aim was rather good." 

“ Pray, how do you know all of this, Pe- 
nelope ? " asked her ladyship, lifting her eye- 
brows. “ I 've heard that you see Mr. Shaw 
occasionally, but you can't be his physician, 
I 'm sure." 

Penelope flushed to the roots of her hair, 
but suppressed the retort which would have 
been in keeping with the provocation. 

“ Oh, dear, no ! " she replied. “ Tm too 


72 Cowardice Court 

soft-hearted to be a physician. 1 saw Mr. 
Shaw just after the — ah — the incident.’* 

‘‘ y ou shaw Saw — I mean you saw Shaw ? ” 
gasped Bazel hurst. 

She sees him frequently, Cecil. It was 
not at all unusual that she should have 
seen him to-day. I daresay he waited to 
show you his wound before going to a 
surgeon.” 

Penelope could not resist the temptation 
to invent a story befitting the moment. 
Assuming a look of concern, she turned to 
her brother and said : “ He is coming to see 
you about it to-morrow, and he is coming 
armed to the teeth, attended by a large party 
of friends. Mr. Shaw says he will have 
satisfaction for the death of that dog if he 
has to shoot everybody on the place.” 

“Good Lord!” cried the duke. There 
was instant excitement. I believe the 
wretch will do it, too.” 

“ Oh, I say, Bazelhurst, settle with him 
for the dog,” said De Peyton nervously. 
He looked at his watch and then at his wife. 
The entire party now was listening to the 
principal speakers. 

“ Nonsense ! ” exclaimed Lady Evelyn. 
“ He won’t come. It’s all bluster. Don’t 


In Which Truth Trespasses 73 

let It frighten you, Cecil. I know the 
manner of man.’* 

“ I wish you could have seen him this 
morning,” murmured Penelope, thoroughly 
enjoying the unexpected situation. Her 
conscience was not troubled by the prevari- 
cation. 

‘‘ By Jove, I think it would be wise to 
send over and find out what he valued the 
brute at,” said Cecil, mopping his brow. 
‘^Good. We’ll send Penelope to act as 
^ ambassador,” said her ladyship. “ She seems 
^ to be on friendly terms with the enemy.” 

‘‘To act as ambassador from Cowardice 
Court?” questioned Penelope, loftily, yet 
with cutting significance. “No, I thank 
you. I decline the honour. Besides,” with 
a reflective frown, “ I don’t believe it is 
diplomacy he ’s after.” 

“ I say what the deuce do you suppose 
the confounded savage has in mind ? ” ex- 
claimed the duke. “ I Ve heard of the way 
A these cowboys settle their affairs. You don’t 
imagine — ” and he paused significantly. 

“It looks like it’s going to be a da — 
rather disagreeable affair,” said De Peyton 
sourly. 

“Good heavens, what are we to do if he 


Cowardice Court 


74 

comes here with a lot of desperadoes and 
begins to shoot?’' cried Mrs. Odwell, genu- 
inely alarmed. “ 1 ’ve read so much of these 
awful mountain feuds.” 

‘‘ Don’t be alarmed. Lord Bazelhurst 
will attend to the gentleman,” said Lady 
Evelyn blandly. His lordship’s monocle 
clattered down and the ice rattled sharply in 
his glass. 

“To — to be sure,” he agreed. “Don’t 
be in the least worried. I ’ll attend to the 
upstart. What time ’s he coming. Pen ? ” 

A door banged noisily near by, and every 
one jumped as though a gun had been fired. 
While the “ ohs ” were still struggling from 
their lips, H odder, the butler, came into 
the room, doing his best to retain his com- 
posure under what seemed to be trying 
circumstances. 

“ What is it, Hodder ? ” demanded her 
ladyship. 

“ The cook, your ladyship. She ’s fallen 
downstairs and broken her leg,” announced 
Hodder. He did not betray it, but he must 
have been tremendously surprised by the 
sigh of relief that went up on all sides. 
Lord Bazelhurst went so far as to laugh, 

Rq ho I I'c that all ? 




n 


In Which Truth Trespasses 75 

“ Oh, dear, I ’m so glad ! ” cried Miss 
Folsom, impulsively. “ I was frightened 
half to death. It might have been Mr. — ” 

‘‘ Don’t be silly. Rose,” said Lady Bazel- 
hurst. “ Where is she, Hodder ? ” 

‘‘In the laundry, your ladyship. There 
are two fractures.” 

“ By Jove, two legs instead of one, then — 
worse than I thought,” cried Bazelhurst, 
draining his glass. 

“ Send at once for a doctor, Hodder, and 
take her to her room. Is n’t it annoying,” 
said her ladyship. “ It ’s so difficult to keep 
a cook in the mountains.” 

“ Don’t see how she can get away without 
legs,” observed De Peyton. 

“ I ’ll come with you, Hodder. Perhaps 
I can do something for her,” said Penelope, 
following the butler from the room. 

“ Don’t take too many patients on your 
hands, my dear,” called the mistress, with a 
shrill laugh. 

“ Yes ; remember to-morrow,” added the 
duke. Then, suddenly : “ I believe I ’ll 
lend a hand.” He hurried after Penelope, 
rather actively for him. 

Lord Bazelhurst visited his wife’s room 
later in the night, called there by a more or 


10 


o 


o 





9 


Q 






76 Cowardice Court 

les: peremptory summons. Cecil had been 
taking time by the forelock in anticipation 
of Shaw’s descent in the morning and was 
inclined to jocundity. 

‘‘ Cecil, what do you think of Penelope’s 
attitude toward Mr. Shaw ? ” she asked, 
turning away from the window which looked 
out over the night in the direction of Shaw’s 
place. 

“ I did n’t know she had an attitude,” re- 
plied he, trying to focus his wavering gaze 
upon her. 

‘‘She meets him clandestinely and she 
supports him openly. Is n’t that an atti- 
tude, or are you too drunk to see it? ” 

“My dear, remember you are speaking 7 
of my sister,” he said with fine dignity but 
little discrimination. “ Besides, I am not 
too drunk. I do see it. It’s a demmed 
annoying attitude. She’s a traitor, un’stand 
me ? A traito-tor. I intend to speak to 
her about it.” 

“ It is better that you should do it,” said 
his wife. “ I am afraid I could not control 
my temper.” 

“ Penelope ’s a disgrace — a nabsolute dis- 
grace. How many legs did Hodder say 
she ’d — she ’d broken ? ” 




In Which Truth Trespasses 77 

Oh, you 're diwSgusting ! " cried Lady 
Evelyn. Go to bed ! I thought I could 
talk to you to-night, but I can’t. You 
scarcely can stand up.” 

“ Now, Evelyn, you do me injustice. I ’m 
only holding to this chair to keep it from 
moving ’round the room. See that ? Course 
I c’n Stan’ up,” he cried, triumphantly. 

“ I am utterly disgusted with you. Oh, 
for a man ! A man with real blood in his 
veins, a man who could do something besides 
eat and drink at my cost. I pay your debts, 
clothe you, feed you — house your ungrate- 
ful sister — and what do I get in return ? 
T^his ! ” 

Lord Bazelhurst’s eyes steadied beneath 
this unexpected assault, his legs stiffened, his 
shoulders squared themselves in a pitiful at- 
tempt at dignity. 

“ Lady Bazelhurst, you — you — ” and 
then he collapsed into the chair, bursting 
into maudlin tears. She stood over by the 
dressing-table and looked pitilessly upon the 
weak creature whose hiccoughing sobs filled 
the room. Her colour was high, her breath- 
ing heavy. In some way it seemed as though 
there was so much more she could have said 
had the circumstances been different. 


9 


19 






Cowardice Court 

There came a knock at the door, but she 
did not respond. Then the door opened 
quietly and Penelope entered the room, reso- 
lutely, fearlessly. Evelyn turned her eyes 
upon the intruder and stared for a moment. 

‘‘ Did you knock ? she asked at last. 

‘‘ Yes. You did not answer.'' 

“ Was n't that sufficient ? ” 

“ Not to-night, Evelyn. I came to have 
out with you and Cecil. Where is 
he ? " 

There ! " 

Asleep ? " with a look of amazement. 

‘‘ I hope not. I should dislike having 
to call the servants to carry him to his 
room." 

“ 1 see. Poor old chap ! " She went 
over and shook him by the shoulder. He 
sat up and stared at her blankly through his 
drenched eyes. Then, as if the occasion 
called for a supreme effort, he tried to rise, 
ashamed that his sister should have found 
him in his present condition. “ Don't get 
up, Cecil. Wait a bit and I 'll go to your 
room with you." 

demanded 




In Which Truth Trespasses 79 

“ I can wait. I prefer to have Cecil — un- 
derstand,” she said, bitterly. 

“If it's about our affair with Shaw, it 
won't make any difference whether Cecil 
understands or not. Has your friend asked 
you to plead for him ? Does he expect me 
to take him up on your account and have 
him here ?” 

“ I was jesting when I said he would come 
to-morrow,” said Penelope, ignoring the 
thrust and hurrying to her subject. “ I 
could n’t go to sleep to-night if I neglected 
to tell you what I think of the outrage this 
morning. You and Cecil had no right to 
order Tompkins to shoot at Mr. Shaw. He 
is not a trespasser. Some one killed his 
dog to-day. When he pursued the coward, 
a second shot was fired at him. He was 
wounded. Do you call that fair fighting ^ 
Ambushed, shot from behind a tree. I 
don’t care what you and Cecil think about it, 
I consider it despicable. Thank God, Cecil 
was not really to blame. It is about the only 
thing I can say to my brother’s credit.” 

Lady Bazelhurst was staring at her young 
sister-in-law with wide eyes. It was the 
first time in all her petted, vain life that 
any one had called her to account. She was. 


Cowardice Court 



0 



at first, too deeply amazed to resent the sharp 
attack. 

“ Penelope Drake ! ” was all she could 
say. Then the fury in her soul began to 
search for an outlet. How dare 

How dare you ? ” 

‘‘ I don’t mean to hurt you. 1 am only 
telling you that your way of treating this 
affair is a mistake, It can be rectified. You 
don’t want to be lawless ; you don’t under- 
stand what a narrow escape from murder you 
have had. Evelyn, you owe reparation to 
Mr. Shaw. He is — ” 

“ I understand why you take his side. 
You cheapen and degrade yourself and you 
bring shame upon your brother and me by 
your disgraceful affair with this ruffian. 
Don’t look shocked ! You meet him se- 
cretly, I know — how much farther you have 
gone with him I don’t know. It is enough 
that you — ” 

“ Stop ! You shall not say such things 
to me ! ” 

You came in here to have it out with 
me. Well, we ’ll have it out. You think be- 
cause you ’re English, and all that, that you 
are better than I. You show it in 
every action ; you turn up your 


your 
nose at 





In Which Truth Trespasses 8i 

me because I am an American. Well, what 
if I am ? Where would you be if it were 
not for me ? And where would he be ? 
You ’d starve if it were not for me. You 
hang to me like a leech — you sponge on 
me, you gorge yourself — 

‘‘ That is enough, Evelyn. You have 
said all that is necessary, I deserve it, too, 
for meddling in your affairs. It may satisfy 
you to know that I have always despised 
you. Having confessed, I can only add 
that we cannot live another hour under the 
same roof. You need not order me to go. 
I shall do so of my own accord — gladly.’' 
Penelope turned to the door. She was as 
cold as ice. 

‘‘ It is the first time you have ever done 
anything to please me. You may go in the 
morning.” 

“ I shall go to-night !” 

“ As you like. It is near morning. Where 
do you expect to go at this hour of night? ” 

“ I am not afraid of the night. To- 
morrow I shall send over from the village 
for my trunks.” She paused near the door 
and then came back to Cecil’s side. “Good- 
bye, Cecil. I dl write. Good-bye.” He 
looked up with a hazy ^mile. 


Q 


O 


82 


Cowardice Court 


‘‘ G’night/’ he muttered thickly. 

Without another word or so much as a 
glance at Lady Bazelhurst, Penelope Drake 
went swiftly from the room. The big hall 
clock struck the half-hour after eleven. 
Some one — a woman — was laughing in 
the billiard-room below ; the click of the 
balls came to her ears like the snapping of 
angry teeth. She did not hesitate ; it was 
not in her nature. The room in which she 
had found so much delight was now loath- 
some to her. With nervous fingers she 
threw the small things she most cherished 
into a bag, — her purse, her jewels, her little 
treasures. Somehow it seemed to her as if 
she were hurrying to catch a night train, 
that was all. With her own strong young 
arms she dragged the two huge trunks from 
the closet. Half an hour later they were 
full and locked. Then she looked about 
with a dry, mirthless smile. 

‘‘ I wonder where I am to go ? ” she mur- 
mured, half aloud. A momentary feeling 
of indecision attacked her. The click of 
the balls had ceased, the clock had struck 
twelve. It was dark and still, and the wind 
was crying in the trees. 



In Which Truth Trespasses 83 

“ She won’t go,” Lady Bazelhurst was 
saying to herself, as she sat, narrow-eyed 
and hateful, in her window looking out into 
the night. ‘‘ Life is too easy here.” The 
light from the porch lanterns cast a feeble 
glow out beyond the porte-cochere and 
down the drive. As she stared across the 
circle, the figure of a woman suddenly cut 
a diametric line through it, and lost itself 
in the wall of blackness that formed the cir- 
cumference. Lady Evelyn started and stared 
unbelievingly into the darkness, striving to 
penetrate it with her gaze. “ It was she — 
Penelope,” she cried, coming to her feet. 
‘‘She’s really gone — she meant it.” For 
many minutes she peered out into the night, 
expecting to see the shadow returning. A 
touch of anxious hope possessing her, she 
left the window and hurried down the cor- 
ridor to Penelope’s room. What she found 
there was most convincing. It was not a 
trick of the lanterns. The shadow had been 
real. It must be confessed that the peevish 
heart of Lady Bazelhurst beat rather rapidly 
as she hastened back to the window to peer 
anxiously out into the sombre park with 
its hooting owls and chattering night-bugs. 
The mournful yelp of a distant dog floated 


9 




b 


84 Cowardice Court 

across the black valley. The watcher shud- 
dered as she recalled stories of panthers that 
had infested the great hills. A small feel- 
ing of shame and regret began to develop 
with annoying insistence. 

An hour dragged itself by before she 
arose petulantly, half terrified, half annoyed 
in spite of herself. Her husband still was 
sitting in the big chair, his face in his hands. 
His small, dejected figure appealed to her 
pity for the first time in the two years of 
their association. She realized what her 
temper had compelled her to say to him 
and to his sister ; she saw the insults that 
at least one of them had come to resent. 

I hope that foolish girl will come back,” 
she found herself saying, with a troubled 
look from the window. ‘‘ Where can the 
poor thing go ? What will become of her.? 
What will everyone say when this becomes 
known ? ” she cried, with fresh selfishness. 
‘H — I should not have let her go like 
this.” 

Even as she reproached herself, a light 
broke in upon her understanding ; a thought 
whirled into her brain and a moment later a 
shrill, angry, hysterical laugh came from her 







In Which Truth Trespasses 85 

‘‘She knew where she could go! How 
simple I am. Shaw will welcome her gladly. 
She's with him by this time — his doors 
have opened to her. The little wretch ! 
And I 've been trying so hard to pity her ! ” 
She laughed again so shrilly that his lord- 
ship stirred and then looked up at her stupe- 
fied, uncertain. 

“ Hullo,” he grunted. “ What time is it ^ ” 

“ Oh, you 're awake, are you ? '' scornfully. 

“ Certainly. Have I been dozing ? 
What 's there to laugh at, my dear ^ '' he 
mumbled, arising very unsteadily. “Where 's 
Pen ? '' 

“ She 's gone. She 's left the house,'' she 
said, recurring dread and anxiety in her 
voice. A glance at the darkness outside 
brought back the growing shudders. 

What — what d' ye mean ? '' demanded 
he, bracing up with a splendid effort. 

“She's left the house, that's all. We 
quarrelled. I don't know where she's gone. 
Yes, I do know. She 's gone to Shaw's for 
the night. She's with him. I saw her go- 
ing,” she cried, striving between fear and 
anger. 

You've- — you've turned her out?” 
.ord Bazelhurst 



86 


Cowardice Court 

night ? Good Lord, why — why did you let 
her go?” He turned and rushed toward 
the door, tears springing to his eyes. He was 
sobering now and the tears were wrenched 
from his hurt pride. ‘‘ How long ago ? ” 
‘‘An hour or more. She went of her own 
accord. You’ll find her at Shaw’s,” said her 
ladyship harshly. She hated to admit that 
she was to blame. But as her husband left 
the room, banging the door after him, she 
caught her breath several times in a futile 
effort to stay the sobs, and then broke down 
and cried, a very much abused young woman. 
She hated everybody and everything. 



IN WHICH DAN CUPID TRESPASSES 

/ADY BAZELHURST was right. 
PeYielope was making her way through the 
blackest of nights toward the home of Ran- 
dolph Shaw. In deciding upon this step, 
after long deliberation, she had said to her- 
self : “ Randolph Shaw is the only real man 
I ’ve seen since coming to the mountains. I 
can trust him to help me to-night.” 

It was fully three miles to Shaw’s place, 
most of the way over the narrow valley road. 
She knew she would encounter but few tor- 
tuous places. The last half-mile, however, 
was steep, rugged, and unfamiliar to her. 
She had ventured no nearer to his home than 
Renwood’s deserted cottage, lying above and 
to the south of the road, almost at the base 
of the long hill on whose side Shaw had 
built his big home. To climb that hill was 







Cowardice Court 







Q 




no easy task in daylight; at midnight, with 
the stars obscured by clouds and tree-tops, 
there was something perilously uncertain in 
the prospect. 

Only the knowledge that patience and 
courage eventually would bring her to the 
end made the journey possible. Time would 
lead her to the haven ; care would make the 
road a friend ; a stout heart was her best 
ally. Strength of limb and strength of pur- 
pose she had, in use and in reserve. No 
power could have made her turn back will- 
ingly. Her anxious eyes were set ahead in 
the blackness ; her runaway feet were eager 
in obedience to her will. 

‘‘Why couldn’t I have put it off* until 
morning?” she was saying to herself as she 
passed down the gravelled drive and advanced 
to meet the wall of trees that frowned blackly 
in her face. “ What will he think ? What 
will he say ? Oh, he ’ll think I ’m such a 
silly, romantic fool. No, he won’t. He ’ll 
understand. He ’ll help me on to Platts- 
burg to-morrow. But will he think I ’ve 
done this for effect? Won’t he think I ’m 
actually throwing myself at his head? No, 
I can’t turn back. I ’d rather die than go 
back to that house. It won’t matter what 



In Which Cupid Trespasses 89 

he thinks ; I ’ll be away from all of it to- 
morrow. I ’ll be out of his life and I won’t 
care what he thinks. England ! Goodness, 
what’s that?” She had turned a bend in 
the drive and just ahead there was a light. A 
sigh of relief followed the question. It came 
from the lantern which hung to a stake in the 
road where the new stone gate-posts were 
being built by workmen from town. Bazel- 
hurst Villa was a quarter of a mile, through 
the park, behind her; the forest was ahead. 

At the gate she stopped between the half- 
finished stone posts and looked ahead with 
the first shiver of dismay. Her limbs seemed 
ready to collapse. The flush of anger and ex- 
citement left her face; a white, desolate look 
came in its stead. Her eyes grew wide and 
she blinked her lashes with an awed uncer- 
tainty that boded ill for the stability of her 
adventure. An owl hooted in mournful 
cadence close by and she felt that her hair 
was going straight on end. The tense fin- 
gers of one hand gripped the handle of the 
travelling-bag while the other went spasmodi- 
cally to her heart. 

“Oh 1 ” she gasped, moving over quickly 
to the stake on which the lantern hung. The 
wind was rushing through the tree-tops with 


90 Cowardice Court 

increased fervour; the air was cool and wet 
with the signs of rain ; a swirl of dust flew 
up into her face ; the swish of leaves sounded 
like the splashing of water in the air. Hold- 
ing her heart for minutes, she at last regained 
some of the lost composure. A hysterical 
laugh fell from her lips. “ What a goose ! 
It was an owl and I Ve heard hundreds of 
them up here. Still, they do sound different 
outside of one’s own room. It’s going to 
rain. What wretched luck ! Dear me, I 
can’t stand here all night. How black it is 
ahead there. Oooh ! Really, now, it does 
seem a bit terrifying. If I only had a lan- 
tern it would n’t be so — ” her gaze fell upon 
the labourers’ lantern that clattered aimlessly, 
uselessly against the stake. An instant later 
she had jerked it from its fastenings with a 
cry of joy. ‘‘ I ’ll send it back when they go 
for my trunks. What luck ! ” 

Without a second’s hesitation she started 
off briskly into the woodland road, striding 
along with the splendid swing of the healthy 
Englishwoman who has not been trained to 
dawdle. Her walking-skirt gave free play 
to her limbs ; she was far past the well- 
known ‘‘ line in the road ” before she paused 
to take a full breath and to recapitulate. 




In Which Cupid Trespasses 91 

Her heart beat faster and the sudden glow 
in her cheek was not from the exercise. 
Somehow, out there alone in the world, the 
most amazing feeling of tenderness sped on 
ahead to Randolph Shaw. She tried to put 
it from her, but it grew and grew. Then 
she blushed deep within herself and her eyes 
grew sweet with the memory of those stolen, 
reprehensible hours along the frontier. Some- 
thing within her breast cried out for those 
shining, gone-by moments, something seemed 
to close down on her throat, something 
flooded her eyes with a softness that rolled 
up from her entire being. Their line ! 
Their insurmountable barrier ! An absurd 
yet ineffable longing to fall down and kiss that 
line came over her with compelling force. 

Her head grew light with the thought of 
those moments when their horses stood with 
muzzles together as if kissing by proxy — 
the flush grew deeper, though her blood 
went cold and she trembled. 

A pitiful confusion seized her, an inexpli- 
cable timidity crept into her heart, replacing 
the bold assurance that had been recklessly 
carrying her on to him. It was as though 
some one had whispered the truth into her 
ear and she was beginning to believe. 






Q 



b 


Cov/ARDiCE Court 


From that moment her courage began to 
fail. The glow from her lantern was a men- 
ace instead of a help. A sweet timorousness 
enveloped her and something tingled — she 
knew not what. 

Spattering raindrops whizzed in her face, 
ominous forerunners from the inky sky. 
The wind was whistling with shrill glee in 
the tree- tops and the tree- tops tried to flee 
before it. A mile and a half lay between 
her and the big cottage on the hillside — the 
most arduous part of the journey by far. 
She walked and ran as though pursued, 
scudding over the road with a swiftness 
that would have amazed another, but which 
seemed the essence of slowness to her. 
Thoughts of robbers, tramps, wild beasts, ' 
assailed her with intermittent terrors, but all 
served to diminish the feeling of shyness that 
had been interfering with her determination. 

Past Renwood’s cottage she sped, shudder- 
ing as she recognized the stone steps and 
path that ran up the hillside to the haunted 
house. Ghosts, witches, hobgoblins fell into 
the procession of pursuers, cheered on by the 
shrieking wind that grew more noisome as 
her feet carried her higher up the mountain. 
Now she was on new ground. She had never 






In Which Cupid Trespasses 

before explored so far as this. The hill was 
steep and the road had black abysses out 
beyond its edges. . . . 

She was breathless, half dead from fatigue 
and terror when at last her feet stumbled up 
the broad steps leading to his porch. Trem- 
bling, she sank into the rustic bench that 
stood against the wall. The lantern clattered 
to her feet, and the bag with her jewels, her 
letter of credit, and her curling irons slid to 
the floor behind the bench. Here was his 
home ! What cared she for the storm ^ 

Even as she lay there gasping for breath, 
her eyes on the shadowy moon that was 
breaking its way through the clouds, three 
men raced from the stables at Bazelhurst 
Villa bent on finding the mad young person 
who had fled the place. Scarcely knowing 
what direction he took. Lord Bazelhurst led 
the way, followed by the duke and the count, 
all of them supplied with carriage lamps, 
which, at any other time, would have been 
sickening in their obtrusiveness. Except 
for Lady Evelyn, the rest of the house slept 
the sleep of ease. 

Graduallv Penelope recovered from the 



94 


Cowardice Court 



into action. Clutching it from the floor 
of the porch, she softly began a tour of 
inspection, first looking at her watch to 
find that it was the unholy hour of two ! 
Had some one yelled boo ! she would have 
swooned, so tense was every nerve. Now 
that she was here, what was she to do ? Her 
heart came to her mouth, her hand shook, 
but not with fear; a nervous smile tried to 
wreak disaster to the concern in her eyes. 

The house was dark and still. No one 
was stirring. The porch was littered with 
rugs and cushions, while on a small table 
near the end stood a decanter, a siphon, and 
two glasses. Two? He had said he was 
alone except for the housekeeper and the 
servants. A visitor, then. This was not 
what she had expected. Her heart sank. 
It would be hard to face the master of the 
house, but — a stranger ? Cigarette stubs 
met her bewildered, troubled gaze — many 
of them. Deduction was easy out there in the 
lonely night. It was easy to see that Shaw 
and his companion sat up so late that the 
‘servants had gone to bed. 

Distractedly she looked about for means 
of shelter on the porch until daylight could 
abet her in the flight to the village beyond. 









In \Vhich Cupid Trespasses 95 

The storm was sure to come at no far distant 
time. She knew and feared the violence of 
the mountain rains. 

‘‘ By all that ’s holy,” came in a man’s 
voice, low-toned and uncertain ; “ it is nt a 
dream, after all !” 

She turned like a flash, with a startled 
exclamation and an instinctive movement as 
if to shield herself from unbidden gaze. 
Her lips parted and her heart pounded like 
a hammer. Standing in the doorway was 
Randolph Shaw, his figure looming up like 
a monstrous, wavering genie in the uncertain 
light from the shaking lantern. His right 
hand was to his brow and his eyes were wide 
with incredulous joy. She noticed that the 
left sleeve of his dinner jacket hung limp, and 
that the arm was in a white sling beneath. 

“ Is it really you ? ” he cried, his hand 
going instinctively to his watch-pocket as 
if doubting that it was night instead of 
morning. 

‘‘ I ’ve — I ’ve run away from them,” she 
stammered. ‘‘ It ’s two o’clock — don’t 
look! Oh, I’m so sorry now — why did 
I — ” 

toward her. ‘‘ Oh, it can’t be a dream. 



Cowardice Court 


9 






You are there, aren’t you?” She was a 
pitiable object as she stood there, powerless 
to retreat, shaking like a leaf. He took her . 
by the shoulder. “Yes — it is you. Good 
Lord, what does it mean ? What has hap- 
pened ? How did you come here ? Are 
you alone ? ” 

“ Utterly, miserably alone. Oh, Mr. 
Shaw ! ” she cried despairingly. “You will 
understand, won’t you ? ” 

“Never! Never as long as I live. It 
is beyond comprehension. The wonderful 
part of it all is that I was sitting in there 
dreaming of you — yes, I was. I heard 
some one out here, investigated and found 
you — you, of all people in the world. And 
I was dreaming that I held you in my arms. 
Yes, I was 1 I was dreaming it — ” 

“ Mr. Shaw 1 You should n’t — ” 

“And I awoke to find you — not in my 
arms, not in Bazelhurst Villa, but here — 
here on my porch.” 

“ Like a thief in the night,” she mur- 




In Which Cupid Trespasses 97 

but a great wave of exaltation swept through 
her being. He turned and walked away, 
too dazed to speak. Without knowing it, 
she followed with hesitating steps. At the 
edge of the porch he paused and looked into 
the darkness. 

By Jove, I must be dreaming,*’ she heard 
him mutter. 

“ No, you are not,” she declared desper- 
ately. “ 1 am here. I ask your protection 
for the night. I am going away — to Eng- 
land — to-morrow. I could n’t stay there 

— I just could n’t. I ’m sorry I came 
here — I’m — ” 

“Thank heaven, you did come,” he ex- 
claimed, turning to her joyously. “ You 
are like a fairy — the fairy princess come 
true. It’s unbelievable! But — but what 
was it you said about England ? ” he con- 
cluded, suddenly sober. 

“ I am go — going home. There ’s no 
place else. I can’t live with her,” she said, 
a bit tremulously. 

“To England? At once? Your father 

— will he — ” 

“ My father? I have no father. Oh!” 
with a sudden start. Her eyes met his in 
a helpless stare. “ I never thought. My 


98 Cowardice Coltre 

home was at Bazelhurst Castle — their 
home. I can’t go there. Good heavens, 
what am I to do ? ” 

A long time afterward she recalled his 
exultant exclamation, checked at its outset, — 
recalled it with a perfect sense of understand- 
ing. With rare good taste he subdued 
whatever it was that might have struggled 
for expression and simply extended his 
right hand to relieve her of the lantern. 

‘‘We never have been enemies. Miss 
Drake,” he said, controlling his voice admir- 
ably. “ But had we been so up to this very 
instant, I am sure I ’d surrender now. I 
don’t know what has happened at the Villa. 
It does n’t matter. You are here to ask my 
protection and my help. I am at your ser- 
vice, my home is yours, my right hand also. 
You are tired and wet and — nervous. 
Won’t you come inside? I ’ll get a light 
in a jiffy and Mrs. Ulrich, my housekeeper, 
shall be with you as soon as I can rout her 
out. Come in, please.” She held back 
doubtfully, a troubled, uncertain look in her 
eyes. 

“You will understand, won’t you?” she 
asked simply. 

“ And no questions asked,” he said from 


In Which Cupid Trespasses 99 

the doorway. Still she held back, her gaze 
going involuntarily to the glasses on the 
table. He interpreted the look of inquiry. 
“ There were two of us. The doctor was 
here picking out the shot, that's all. He's 
gone. It's all right. Wait here and I 'll 
get a light." The flame in her lantern sud- 
denly ended its feeble life. 

She stood inside his doorway and heard 
him shuffle across the floor in search of the 
lamps. 

“ Dark as Egypt, eh ? " he called out 
from the opposite side of the room. 

“ Not as dark as the forest, Mr. Shaw." 

“ Good heavens, what a time you must 
have had. All alone, were you ? " 

“ Of course. I was not eloping." 

‘‘ I beg your pardon." 

“ Where were you sitting when I came 
up ? " 

‘‘ Here — in the dark. I was waiting for 
the storm to come and dozed away, I dare- 
say. I love a storm, don't you ? " 

“Yes, if I 'm indoors. Ah !" He had 
struck a match and was lighting the wick of 
a lamp beside the huge fireplace. “ I sup- 
pose you think I 'm perfectly crazy. 1 'm 
horrid." 




Cowardice Court 

Not at all. Sit down here on the 
couch, please. More cheerful, eh ? Good 
Lord, listen to the wind. You got here 
just in time. Now, if you'll excuse me, 

I ’ll have Mrs. Ulrich down in a minute. 
She ’ll take* good care of you. And I ’ll 
make you a nice hot drink, too. You heed 
it.” In the door of the big living-room he 
turned to her, a look of extreme doubt in 
his eyes. ‘‘ By Jove, I bet I do wake up. 
It can’t be true.” She laughed plain- 
tively and shook her head in humble self- 
abasement. “ Don’t be lonesome. I ’ll be 
back in a minute.” 

Don’t hurry,” she murmured apologeti- 
cally. Then she settled back, limply in the 
wide couch and inspected the room, his foot- 
steps noisily clattering down the long hallway 
to the left. She saw, with some misgiving, 
that it was purely a man’s habitation. Shaw 
doubtless had built and furnished the big 
cottage without woman as a consideration. 
The room was large, comfortable, solid ; 
there was not a suggestion of femininity in 
it — high or low — except the general air of 
cleanliness. The furniture was rough-hewn , 
and built for use, not ornamentation ; the 
walls were hung with English prints, antlers, 







In Which Cupid Trespasses loi 

mementoes of the hunt and the field of sport ; 
the floor was covered with skins and great 
carpet rag ” rugs. The whole aspect was 
so distinctly mannish that her heart fluttered 
ridiculously in its loneliness. Her cogita- 
tions were running seriously toward riot 
when he came hurriedly down the hall and 
into her presence. 

“She’ll be down presently. In fact, so 
will the cook and the housemaid. Gad, Miss 
Drake, they were so afraid of the storm that 
all of them piled into Mrs. Ulrich’s room. 
I wonder *at your courage in facing the 
symptoms outdoors. Now, I ’ll fix you a 
drink. Take off your hat — be comfortable. 
Cigarette? Good! Here’s my sideboard. 
See? It’s a nuisance, this having only one 
arm in commission; affects my style as a 
barkeep. Don’t stir; I’ll be able — ” 

“ Let me help you. I mean, please don’t 
go to so much trouble. Really I want noth- 
ing but a place to sleep to-night. This 
couch will do — honestly. And some one 
to call me at daybreak, so that I may be on 
my way.” He looked at her and laughed 
quizzically. “ Oh, I ’m in earnest, Mr. 
Shaw. I would n’t have stopped here if 



IQ 


% 



102 Cowardice Court 

“ Come, now, Miss Drake, you spoil the 
fairy tale. You did intend to come here. 
It was the only place for you to go — -and 
I ’m glad of it. My only regret is that the 
house is n’t filled with chaperons.” 

“ Why ? ” she demanded with a guilty 
start. 

“ Because I could then say to you all the 
things that are in my heart — aye, that are 
almost bursting from my lips. 1 — I can’t 
say them now, you know,” he said, and she 
understood his delicacy. For some minutes 
she sat in silence watching him as he clumsily 
mixed the drinks and put the water over the 
alcohol blaze. Suddenly he turned to her 
with something like alarm in his voice. “ By 
George, you don’t suppose they ’ll pursue 
you ? ” 

‘‘Oh, would n’t that be jolly? It would 
be like the real story-book — the fairy and 
the ogres and all that. But,” dubiously, 
“ I ’m sorely afraid they consider me rubbish. 
Still — ’’looking up encouragingly — “my 
brother would try to find me if he — if he 
knew that I was gone.” 

To her surprise, he whistled softly and 
permitted a frown of anxiety to creep over 
his face. “ I had n’t thought of that,” he 


In Which Cupid Trespasses 

observed reflectively. Then he seemed to 
throw off the momentary symptoms of un- 
easiness, adding, with a laugh : “ I daresay 
nothing will happen. The storm would put 
a stop to all idea of pursuit.” 

“ Let them pursue,” she said, a stubborn 
light in her eyes. “ I am my own mistress, 
Mr. Shaw. They can’t take me, willy nilly, 
as if I were a child, you know.” 

‘‘That’s quite true. You don’t un- 
derstand,” he said slowly, his back to 
her. 

“ You mean the law ? Is it different from 
ours ? ” 

“ Not that. The — er — situation. You 
see, they might think it a trifle odd if they 
found you here — with me. Don’t you 
understand ? ” He turned to her with a 
very serious expression. She started and 
sat bolt upright to stare at him compre- 
hensively. 

“ You mean — it — it is n’t quite — er — ” 

“ Regular, perhaps,” he supplied. “ Please 
keep your seat! I ’m not the censor; I ’m 
not even an opinion. Believe me. Miss 
Drake, mv only thought was and is for 




104 Cowardice Court 

if they knew I had come to you/’ she 
mused, turning quite cold. 

‘‘ I know the kind of people your sister- 
in-law has at her place, Miss Drake. Their 
sort can see but one motive in anything. 
You know them, too, I daresay.” 

“Yes, I know them,” she said uneasily. 

“ Good heavens, what a fool I Ve been,” 
she added, starting to her feet. “I might 
have known they ’ll say all sorts of terrible 
things. They must not find me here. Mr. 
Shaw, I’m — I am so ashamed — I wonder 
what you are thinking of me.” Her lip f* 
trembled and there was such a pleading look 
in her dark eyes that he controlled himself 
with difficulty. It was only by imposing 
the severest restraint upon his susceptibili- 
ties that he was able to approach her calmly. 

“ I can't tell you now — not here — what 
I am thinking. It is n't the place. Maybe 
— maybe you can read my thought, Penel — 
Miss Drake. Look up, please. Can't you 
read — oh, there now — I beg your pardon ! f 
You come to me for protection and I — 
well, don't be too hard on me just yet. I 'll 
find the time and place to tell you.” He 
drew away almost as his hand was ready to 
clasp hers — all because her sweet eyes met 


In Which Cupid Trespasses T05 

his trustingly — he could have sworn — 
lovingly. 

‘‘Just now 1 am a poor little reprobate/* 
she sighed ever so miserably. “You are 
very good. I *11 not forget.’* 

“ I *11 not permit you to forget/* he said 
eagerly. 

“Isn’t the housekeeper a long time in 
coming?” she asked quickly. He laughed 
contentedly. 

“We’ve no reason to worry about her. 
It’s the pursuers from Bazelhurst that 
should trouble us. Won’t you tell me the 
whole story ? ” And she told him every- 
thing, sitting there beside him with a hot 
drink in her hand and a growing shame in 
her heart. It was dawning upon her with 
alarming force that she was exposing a 
hitherto unknown incentive. It was not a 
comfortable awakening. “ And you cham- 
pion me to that extent?” he cried joyously. 
She nodded bravely and went on. 

“So here I am,” she said in conclusion. 
“ I really could not have walked to Ridgely 
to-night, could I ? ” 

“ I should say not.” 

“And there was really nowhere else to 
come but here ? ” dubiously. 


io6 Cowardice Court 

“See that light over there — up the 
mountain?” he asked, leading her to a 
window. “ Old man Grimes and his wife 
live up there. They keep a light burning all 
night to scare Kenwood’s ghost away. By 
Jove, the storm will be upon us in a minute. 
I thought it had blown around us.” The roll 
of thunder came up the valley. “ Thank 
heaven, you ’re safe indoors. Let them pur- 
sue if they like. I ’ll hide you if they come, 
and the servants are close-mouthed.” 

“I don’t like the way you put it, Mr. 
Shaw.” 

“ Hullo, hullo — the house,” came a shout 
from the wind-ridden night outside. Two 
hearts inside stopped beating for a second 
or two. She caught her breath sharply as 
she clasped his arm. 

“ They are after me ! ” she gasped. 

“ They must not find you here. Really, 
Miss Drake, I mean it. They would n’t 
understand. Come with me. Go down 
this hall quickly. It leads to the garden 
back of the house. There ’s a gun-room at 
the end of the hall. Go in there, to your 
right. Here, take this! It’s an electric 
saddle-lantern. I ’ll head these fellows off. 
They shan’t find you. Don’t be alarmed.” 


In Which Cupid Trespasses 107 

She sped down the narrow hall and he, 
taking time to slip into a long dressing-coat, 
stepped out upon the porch in response to 
the now prolonged and impatient shouts. 

Who ’s there ? ” he shouted. The light 
from the windows revealed several horsemen 
in the roadway. 

‘‘ Friends,” came back through the wind. 
“ Let us in out of the storm. It 's a 
terror.” 

“ I don’t know you.” There was a shout 
of laughter and some profanity. 

“ Oh, yes you do, Mr. Shaw. Open up 
and let us in. It’s Dave Rank and Ed 
Hunter. We can’t make the cabin before 
the rain.” Shaw could see their faces now 
and then by the flashes of lightning and he 
recognized the two woodsmen, who doubt- 
less had been visiting sweethearts up toward 
Ridgely. 

“ Take your horses to the stable, boys, 
and come in,” he called, laughing heartily. 
Then he hurried off to the gun-room. He 
passed Mrs. Ulrich coming downstairs yawn- 
ing prodigiously ; he called to her to wait 
for him in the library. 

There was no one in the gun-room ; the 
door leading to the back porch was open. 




p 


p 








io8 Cowardice Court 

With an exclamation he leaped outside and 
looked about him. 

“ Good heavens ! he cried, staggering 
back. 

Far off in the night, a hundred yards or 
more up the road, leading to Grimes* cabin 
he saw the wobbling, uncertain flicker of a 
light wending its way like a will-o’-the-wisp 
through the night. Without a moment’s 
hesitation and with something strangely like 
an oath, he rushed into the house, almost 
upsetting the housekeeper in his haste. 

“Visitors outside. Make ’em comfortable. 
Back soon,” he jerked out as he changed 
his coat with small respect for his injured 
arm. Then he clutched a couple of rain- 
coats from the rack and flew out of the back 
door like a man suddenly gone mad. 





X HE impulse which drove Penelope out 
for the second time that night may be readily 
appreciated. Its foundation was fear; its sub- 
ordinate emotions were shame, self-pity and 
consciousness of her real feeling toward the 
man of the house. The true spirit of woman- 
hood revolted with its usual waywardness. 

She was flying down the stony road, some 
distance from the cottage, in the very face 
of the coming tornado, her heart beating like 
a trip-hammer, her eyes bent on the little 
light up the mountain-side, before it occurred 
to her that this last flight was not only 
senseless but perilous. She even laughed at 
herself for a fool as she recalled the tell-tale 
handbag on the porch and the damning pres- 
ence of a Bazelhurst lantern in the hallway. 

The storm which had been raging farther 






no Cowardice Court 

down the valley was at last whirling up to 
the hill-tops, long delayed as if in gleeful 
anticipation of catching her alone and un- 
protected. The little electric saddle-lamp 
that she carried gave out a feeble glow, 
scarce opening the way in the darkness more 
than ten feet ahead. Rough and irksome 
was the road, most stubborn the wall of 
wind. The second threat of the storm was 
more terrifying than the first ; at any instant 
it was likely to break forth in all its slashing 
fury — and she knew not whither she went. 

Even as she lost heart and was ready to 
turn wildly back in an effort to reach Shaw's 
home before the deluge, the' lightning flashes 
revealed to her the presence of a dwelling 
just off the road not two hundred feet ahead. 
She stumbled forward, crying like a fright- 
ened child. There were no lights. The 
house looked dark, bleak, unfriendly. 
Farther up the hillside still gleamed the 
little light that was meant to keep Ren- 
wood’s ghost from disturbing the slumbers 
of old man Grimes and his wife. She could 
not reach that light, that much she knew. 
Her feet were like hundredweights, her 
limbs almost devoid of power ; Grimes’ hut 
appeared to be a couple of miles away. 



1 1 1 


A Ghost Trespasses hi 

With a last, breathless effort, she turned off 
the road and floundered through weeds and 
brush until she came to what proved to be 
the rear of the darkened house. Long, low, 
rangy it reached off into thq shadows, chilling 
in its loneliness. There was no time left for 
her to climb the flight of steps and pound 
on the back door. The rain was swishing 
in the trees with a hiss that forbade delay. 

She threw herself, panting and terror- 
stricken, into the cave-like opening under 
the porch, her knees giving way after the su- 
preme effort. The great storm broke as she 
crouched far back against the wall ; her hands 
over her ears, her eyes tightly closed. She 
was safe from wind and rain, but not from the 
sounds of that awful conflict. The lantern lay 
at her feet, sending its ray out into the storm 
with the senseless fidelity of a beacon light. 

‘‘Penelope!” came a voice through the 
storm, and a second later a man plunged 
into the recess, crashing against the wall 
beside her. Something told her who it was, 
even before he dropped beside her and threw 
his strong arm about her shoulders. The 
sound of the storm died away as she buried 


p 







o 


I 12 


Cowardice Court 



face burning, her blood tingling, she lay 
there and wondered if the throbbing of her 
heart were not about to kill her. 

He was crying something into her ear — 
wild, incoherent words that seemed to have 
the power to quiet the storm. And she 
was responding — she knew that eager words 
were falling from her lips, but she never 
knew what they were — responding with a 
fervour that was overwhelming her with joy. 
Lips met again and again and there was no 
thought of the night, of the feud, the es- 
capade, the Renwood ghost — or of aught 
save the two warm living human bodies that 
had found each other. 

The storm, swerving with the capricious 
mountain winds, suddenly swept their refuge 
with sheets of water. Randolph Shaw threw 
the raincoats over his companion and both 
laughed hysterically at their plight, suddenly 
remembered. 

‘‘We can’t stay here,” he shouted. 

“ We can’t go out into it,” she cried. 
“ Where are we ? ” 

“ Renwood’s,” he called back. Their 
position was untenable. He was drenched ; 
the raincoats protected her as she crouched 
back into the most remote corner. Look- 




A Ghost Trespasses 113 

ing. about, he discovered a small door lead- 
ing to the cellar. It opened the instant 
he touched the latch. “ Come, quick,” he 
cried, lifting her to her feet. “ In here — 
stoop ! I have the light. This is the cellar. 
I 'll have to break down a door leading to 
the upper part of the house, but that will 
not be difficult. Here's an axe or two. 
Good Lord, I 'm soaked ! " 

“ Whe — where are we going ? '' she 
gasped, as he drew her across the earthern 
floor. 

“ Upstairs. It 's comfortable up there.'' 
They were at the foot of the narrow stair- 
way. She held back. 

‘‘ Never ! It 's the — the haunted house ! 
I can't — Randolph.'' 

“ Pooh ! Don't be afraid. I 'm with 
you, dearest.'' 

I know,'' she gulped. But you have 
only one arm. Oh, I can't ! '' 

“It's all nonsense about ghosts. I've 
slept here twenty times, Penelope. People 
have seen my light and my shadow, that 's 
all. I 'm a pretty substantial ghost.'' 

“ Oh, dear ! What a disappointment. 
And there are no spooks ? Not even Mrs. 
Renwood ? " 


8 


“ Of course she may come back, dear, 
but you ’d hardly expect a respectable lady 
spook to visit the place with me stopping 
here. Even ghosts have regard for conven- 
tionalities. She could n t — 

ow much more respectable than I,” 
Penelope murmured plaintively. 

“ Forgive me,’* he implored. 

I would — only you are so wet.” 

The door above was locked, but Shaw 
swung the axe so vigorously that any but a 
very strong-nerved ghost must have been 
frightened to death once more. 

“ It ’s my house, you know,” he explained 
from the top step. ‘‘ There we are ! Come 
up, Penelope. The fort is yours.” 

She followed him into the hall above. In 
silence they walked along the bare floors 
through empty rooms until at last he opened 
a door in what proved to be the left wing. 
To her surprise, this room was. comfortably 
furnished. There were ashes in the big fire- 
place and there were lamps which had been 
used recently — for they were filled with oil. 

‘‘Here’s where I read sometimes,” he 
explained. “ I have slept on that couch. 
Last winter I came up here to hunt. My 
cottage was n’t finished, so I stayed here. 


A Ghost Trespasses 115 

I ’ll confess I ’ve heard strange sounds — 
now, don’t shiver ! Once or twice I ’ve 
been a bit nervous, but I ’m still alive, you 
see.” He lighted the wicks in the two big 
lamps while she looked on with the chills 
creeping up and down her back. “ I ’ll have 
a bully fire in the fireplace in just a minute.” 

‘‘ Let me help you,” she suggested, com- 
ing quite close to him with uneasy glances 
over her shoulders. 

Ten minutes later they were sitting before 
a roaring fire, quite content even though 
there was a suggestion of amazed ghosts 
lurking in the hallway behind them. No 
doubt old man Grimes and his wife, if they 
awoke in the course of the night, groaned 
deep prayers in response to the bright light 
from the windows of the haunted house. 
Shaw and Penelope smiled securely as they 
listened to the howling storm outside. 

“Well, this is trespassing,” she said, 
beaming a happy smile upon him. 

“ 1 shall be obliged to drive you out, 
alas,” he said reflectively. “ Do you recall 
my vow ? As long as you are a Bazelhurst, 
I must perforce eject you.” 

“Not to-night!” she cried in mock 
dismay. 


ii6 Cowardice Court 

“ But, as an alternative, you ’ll not be a 
Bazelhurst long,” he went on eagerly, sud- 
denly taking her hands into his, forgetful of 
the wounded left. “ I ’m going to try tres- 
passing myself. To-morrow I ’m going to 
see your brother. It ’s regular, you know. 
I ’m going to tell the head of your clan that 
you are coming over to Shaw, heart and 
hand.” 

“ Oh !” she exclaimed. ‘‘You — you — 
no, no ! You must not do that ! ” 

“ But, my dear, you are going to marry 
me.” 

“Yes — I — suppose so,” she murmured 
helplessly. “ That is n’t what I meant. I 
mean, it is n’t necessary to ask Cecil. Ask 
me ; I ’ll consent for him.” 

Half an hour passed. Then he went to 
the window and looked out into the storm. 

“ You must lie down and get some sleep,” 
he insisted, coming back to her. “ The 
storm ’s letting up, but we can’t leave here 
for quite a while. I ’ll sit up and watch. 
I ’m too happy to sleep.” She protested, 
but her heavy eyes were his allies. Soon he 
sat alone before the fire; she slept sound on 
the broad couch in the corner, a steamer rug 
across her knees. A contented smile curved 



A G.host Trespasses 117 

his lips as he gazed reflectively into the 
flames. He was not thinking of Mrs. 
Renwood’s amiable ghost. 

How long she had been asleep, Penelope 
did not know. She awoke with a start, her 
flesh creeping. A nameless dread came over 
her ; she felt that she was utterly alone and 
surrounded by horrors. It was a full minute 

— a sickening hour, it seemed — before she 
realized that she was in the room with the 
man she loved. Her frightened eyes caught 
sight of him lying back in the chair before 
the dying fire in the chimney place. The 
lights were low, the shadows gaunt and chill. 

A terrified exclamation started to her lips. 
Her ears again caught the sound ot some 
one moving in the house — some alien 
visitor. There was no mistaking the sound 

— the distant, sepulchral laugh and the 
shuffling of feet, almost at the edge of the 
couch it seemed. 

“ Randolph ! she whispered hoarsely. 
The man in the chair did not move. She 
threw off the blanket and came to a sitting 
posture on the side of the couch, her fingers 
clutching the covering with tense horror. 
Again the soft, rumbling laugh and the 
sound of footsteps on the stairway. Like 


9 







ii8 Cowardice Court 

a flash she sped across the room and 
clutched frantically at Randolph’s shoul- 
ders. He awoke with an exclamation, star- 
ing bewildered into the horrified face above. 

“The — the ghost!” she gasped, her 
eyes glued upon the hall door. He leaped 
to his feet and threw his arms about her. 

“You’ve had a bad dream,” he said. 
“ What a beast I was to fall asleep. Lord, 
you ’re frightened half out of your wits. 
Don’t tremble so, dearest. There ’s no 
ghost. Every one knows — ” 

“Listen — listen!” she whispered. To- 
gether they stood motionless, almost breath- 
less before the fire, the glow from which 
threw their shadows across the room to 
meet the mysterious invader. 

“ Good Lord,” he muttered, unwilling to 
believe his ears. “ There is some one in 
the house. 1 ’ve — I ’ve heard sounds here 
before, but not like these.” Distinctly to 
their startled ears came the low, subdued 
murmur of a human voice and then unmis- 
takable moans from the very depth of the 
earth — from the grave, it seemed. 

“ Do you hear ? ” she whispered. “ Oh, 
this dreadful place ! Take me away, Ran- 
dolph, dear, — ” 


A Ghost Trespasses 119 

Don’t be afraid,” he said, drawing 
her close. “There’s nothing supernatural 
about those sounds. They come from lips 
as much alive as ours. I ’ll investigate.” 
He grabbed the heavy poker from the 
chimney corner, and started toward the 
door. She followed close behind, his assur- 
ance restoring in a measure the courage 
that had temporarily deserted her. 

Jn the hallway they paused to look out 
over the broad porch. The storm had died 
away, sighing its own requiem in the misty 
tree-tops. Dawn was not far away. A thick 
fog was rising to meet the first glance of day. 
In surprise Shaw looked at his watch, her face 
at his shoulder. It was after five o’clock. 

“ Ghosts turn in at midnight, dear,” he 
said with a cheerful smile. “ They don’t 
keep such hours as these.” 

“But who can it be? There are no 
tramps in the mountains,” she protested, 
glancing over her shoulder apprehensively. 

“ Listen ! By Jove, that voice came from 
the cellar.” 

“ And the lock is broken,” she exclaimed. 
“But how silly of me! Ghosts don’t stop 
for locks.” 

“ I ’ll drop the bolts just the same,’^ he 


^0 



c? 






Cowardice Court 

said, as they hurried down the hallway. 
At the back stairs they stopped and lis- 
tened for many minutes. Not a sound 
came up to them from below. Softly he 
closed the door and lowered two heavy bars 
into place. If there’s any one down there 
they probably think they’ve heard spooks 
trotting around up here.” 

“Really, it’s quite thrilling, isn’t it ” 
she whispered, in her excitement. 

“In any event, we’re obliged to remain 
under cover until they depart,” he said 
thoughtfully. “We can’t be seen here, 
dearest.” 

“ No,” she murmured, “ not even though 
it is our house.” 

They returned to the big room as softly 
as mice and he left her a moment later to 
close the heavy window shutters on the 
porch. When he returned there was a grim 
smile on his face and his voice shook a little 
as he spoke. 

“ I ’ve heard the voices again. They 
came from the laundry, I think. The Ren- 
woods were downright Yankees, Penelope; 
I will swear that these voices are amazingly 
English.” 





[ IS narrative has quite as much to do 
with the Bazelhurst side of the controversy 
as it has with Shaw's. It is therefore but 
fair that the heroic invasion by Lord Cecil 
should receive equal consideration from 
the historian. Shaw’s conquest of one mem- 
ber of the force opposing him was scarcely 
the result of bravery ; on the other hand 
Lord Cecil’s dash into the enemy’s country 
was the very acme of intrepidity. Shaw had* 
victory fairly thrust upon him ; Lord Bazel- 
hurst had a thousand obstacles to overcome 
before he could even so much as stand face 
to face with the enemy. Hence the expedi- 
tion that started off in the wake of the de- 
serter deserves more than passing mention. 

Down the drive and out into the moun- 
tain road clattered the three horsemen. Lady 





122 


Cowardice Court 


Bazelhurst, watching at the window casement, 
almost swooned with amazement at the sight 
of them. The capes of their mackintoshes 
seemed tb flaunt a satirical farewell in her 
face ; their owners, following the light of the 
carriage lamps, swept from view around a 
bend in the road. 

His lordship had met the duke in the 
hall, some distance from that nobleman’s 
room, and, without observing Barminster’s 
apparent confusion, commanded him to join 
in the pursuit. Barminster explained that he 
was going to see how the cook was resting ; 
however, he would go much farther to be of 
service to the runaway sister of his host. 

“ She ’s broken-hearted,” half sobbed the 
brother. 

‘‘Yes,” agreed the duke; “and what’s a 
broken leg to a broken heart ? Penelope’s 
heart, at that. Demme, I can’t find the 
cook’s room, anyway.” 

“It’s in the servants’ wing,” said Cecil, 
anxious to be off. 

“To be sure. Stupid ass I am. I say, 
old chap, here ’s Deveaux’s door. Let ’s rout 
him out. We’ll need some one to hold the 
horses if we have to force our way into Shaw’s 
house.” 



The Author Trespasses 123 

The count was not thoroughly awake un- 
til he found himself in the saddle some time 
later ; it is certain that he did not know until 
long afterward why they were riding off into 
the storm. He fell so far behind his com- 
panions in the run down the road that he 
could ask no questions. Right bravely the 
trio plunged into the dark territory over 
which the enemy ruled. It was the duke 
who finally brought the cavalcade to a halt 
by propounding a most sensible question. 

“ Are you sure she came this way, Cecil 

‘‘ Certainly. This is Shaw’s way, is n’t 
it ? ” 

Did she say she was going to Shaw’s ? ” 

“ Don’t know. Evelyn told me. Hang 
it all, Barminster, come along. We ’ll never 
catch up to her.” 

“ Is she riding ? ” 

No — horses all in.” 

Do you know, we may have passed her. 
Deuce take it, Bazelhurst, if she ’s running 
away from us, you don’t imagine she’d be 
such a silly fool as to stand in the road and 
wait for us. If she heard us she’d hide 
among the trees.” 

“ But she ’s had an hour’s start of us.” 

“Where ees she coming to?” asked the 




9 




Cowardice Court 

count, with an anxious glance upward just 
in time to catch a skirmishing raindrop with 
his eye. 

‘‘That’s just it. We don’t know,” said 
the duke. 

“ But I must find her,” cried Lord Cecil. 
“ Think of that poor girl alone in this terri- 
ble place, storm coming up and all that. 
Hi, Penelope ! ” he shouted in his most 
vociferous treble. The shrieking wind re- 
plied. Then the three of them shouted her 
name. “ Gad, she may be lost or dead or 
— Come on, Barminster. We must scour 
the whole demmed valley.” 

They were off again, moving more cau- 
tiously while the duke threw the light from 
his lamp into the leafy shadows beside the 
roadway. The wind was blowing savagely 
down the slope and the raindrops were be- 
ginning to beat in their faces with ominous 
persistency. Some delay was caused by an 
accident to the rear-guard. A mighty gust 
of wind blew the count’s hat far back over 
the travelled road. He was so much nearer 
Bazelhurst Villa when they found it that he 
would have kept on in that direction for the 
sake of his warm bed had not his compan- 
ions talked so scornfully about cowardice. 





The Author Trespasses 125 

He ’s like a wildcat to-night,” said the 
duke in an aside to the little Frenchman, 
referring to his lordship. “ Demme, I ’d 
rather not cross him. You seem to forget 
that his sister is out in all this fury.” 

Mon Dieu, but I do not forget. I 
would gif half my life to hold her in my 
arms thees eenstan’.” 

‘‘ Dem you, sir, I 'd give her the other 
half if you dared try such a thing. We 
did n’t fetch you along to hold her. You ’ve 
got to hold the horses, that ’s all.” 

“ Diable ! How dare you to speak 
to — ” 

“ What are you two rowing about ? ” de- 
manded his lordship. ‘‘Come along ! We ’re 
losing time. Sit on your hat, Deveaux.” 

Away they swept, Penelope’s two admirers 
wrathful ly barking at one another about 
satisfaction at some future hour. 

The storm burst upon them in all its fury 
— the maddest, wildest storm they had 
known in all their lives. Terrified, half 
drowned, blown almost from the saddles, 
the trio finally found shelter in the lee of a 
shelving cliff" just off the road. While they 
stood there shivering, clutching the bits of 
their well-nigh frantic horses, the glimmer 




9 





126 


Cowardice Court 


of lights came down to them from windows 
farther up the steep. There was no mistak- 
ing the three upright oblongs of light; they 
were tall windows in a house, the occupants 
of which doubtless had been aroused at this 
unearthly hour by the fierceness of the 
storm. 

“ By Jove,’* lamented the duke, water 
running down his neck in floods. What 
a luxury a home is, be it ever so humble, 
on a night like this.” 

“ Mon Dieu ! Mon Dieu ! ” groaned the 
count. “ How comfortab’ zey look. And 
here ? Eh bien I Qui fait trembler la terre 1 
I am seeck ! I die ! ” 

“ Penelope is out in all this,” moaned his 
lordship. 

‘H am not so sure of that. Trust a 
woman to find a place where she can’t ruin 
her hat. My word for it, Cecil, she ’s found 
a safe roost. I say, by Jove ! ” The duke 
was staring more intently than ever at the 
windows far above. “ I have it ! Is n’t it 
rather odd that a house should be lighted 
so brilliantly at this hour of night ? ” 

“ Demmed servants forgot to put out the 
lamps,” groaned Bazelhurst without interest. 

“Nonsense! I tell you what: some one 


The 'Author Trespasses 127 

has roused the house and asked shelter from 
the storm. Now, who could that be but 
Penelope ? ** 

“ By Jove, you ’re a ripping clever ass, 
after all, Barminster — a regular Sherlock 
Holmes. That’s just it! She’s up there 
where the windows are. Come on ! It ’s 
easy sailing now,” cried his lordship, but the 
duke restrained him. 

‘‘ Don’t rush off like a fool. Whose 
house is it?” 

ow the devil do I know ? This is 
Shaw’s land, and he has n’t been especially 
cordial about — ” 

‘^Aha! See what I mean? Shaw’s land, 
to be sure. Well, hang your stupidity, 
don’t you know we ’re looking at Shaw’s 
house this very instant? He lives there 
and she ’s arrived, dem it all. She ’s up 
there with him — dry clothes, hot drinks 
and all that, and we ’re out here catching 
pneumonia. Fine, isn’t it?” 

“ Gad ! You ’re right 1 She ’s with that 
confounded villain. My God, what ’s to 
become of her?” groaned Lord Cecil, sit- 
ting down suddenly and covering his face 
with his hands. 

‘‘We must rescue her!” shouted the duke. 


‘‘ Brace up, Cecil ! • Don’t be a baby. We’ll 
storm the place.” 

“ Not in zis rain ! ” cried the count. 

“ You stay here in the shade and hold the 
horses, that ’s what you do,” said the duke 
scornfully. 

A council of war was held. From their 
partially sheltered position the invaders could 
see, by the flashes of lightning, that a path 
and some steps ascended the hill. The duke 
was for storming the house at once, but Lord 
Cecil argued that it would be foolish to start 
before the storm abated. Moreover, he ex- 
plained, it would be the height of folly to 
attack the house until they were sure that 
Penelope was on the inside. 

After many minutes there came a break 
in the violence of the storm and prepara- 
tions were at once made for the climb up 
the hill. Deveaux was to remain behind in 
charge of the horses. With their bridle 
reins in his hands he cheerfully maintained 
this position of trust, securely sheltered from 
the full force of the elements. Right bravely 
did the duke and his lordship venture forth 
into the spattering rain. They had gone no 
more than three rods up the path when they 
were brought to a halt by the sounds of a 


The Author Trespasses 129 

prodigious struggle behind them. There 
was a great trampling of horses’ hoofs, ac- 
companied by the frantic shouts of the 
count. 

“ I cannot hold zem ! Mon Dieu ! Zey 
are mad! Ho! Ho! Help!” 

He was in truth having a monstrous un- 
pleasant time. His two friends stumbled to 
his assistance, but not in time to prevent the 
catastrophe. The three horses had taken it 
into their heads to bolt for home ; they were 
plunging and pulling in three directions at 
the same time, the count manfully clinging 
to the bridle reins, in great danger of being 
suddenly and shockingly dismembered. 

“ Hold to ’em ! ” shouted Lord Cecil. 

“ Help ! ” shouted the count, at the same 
moment releasing his grip on the reins. 
Away tore the horses, kicking great chunks 
of mud over him as he tumbled aimlessly 
into the underbrush. Down the road clat- 
tered the animals, leaving the trio marooned 
in the wilderness. Groaning and half dead, 
the unfortunate count was dragged from the 
brush by his furious companions. What 
the duke said to him was sufficient without 
being repeated, here or elsewhere. The 
count challenged him as they all resumed 
9 



130 Cowardice Court 

the march up the hill to visit the house with 
the lighted windows. 

Here is my card, m’sieur,” he grated 
furiously. 

‘‘ Demme, I know you ! ” roared the 
duke. Keep your card and we 'll send it 
in to announce our arrival to Shaw.” 

In due course of time, after many slips 
and falls, they reached the front yard of the 
house on the hillside. It was still raining 
lightly; the thunder and lightning were 
crashing away noisily farther up the valley. 
Cautiously they approached through the 
weeds and brush. 

By Jove ! ” exclaimed his lordship, com- 
ing to a standstill. He turned the light of 
his lantern toward the front elevation of the 
house. ‘‘ Every door and window, except 
these three, are boarded up. It can’t be 
Shaw’s home.” 

‘‘That’s right, old chap. Deuced queer, 
eh ? I say, Deveaux, step up and pound on 
the door. You ’ve got a card, you know.” 

“ Que diable ! ” exclaimed the count, sink- 
ing into the background. 

“We might reconnoitre a bit,” said Bazel- 
hurst. “ Have a look at the rear, you 
know.” 


The Author Trespasses 131 

Around the corner of the house they 
trailed, finally bringing up at the back steps. 
The windows were not only dark but 
boarded up. While they stood there amazed 
and uncertain, the rain came down again in 
torrents, worse than before if possible. They 
scampered for cover, plunging three abreast 
beneath the same steps that had sheltered 
Penelope and Shaw such a short time before. 

“ Ouch ! Get off my foot ! roared the 
duke. 

“ Zounds ! Who are you punching, 
demme ! Hullo ! What 's this ? A door 
and open, as I live.’' The trio entered the 
cellar door without ceremony. ‘‘ Thank 
God, we 're out of the rain, at least.” 

It was not until they had explored the 
basement and found it utterly without signs 
of human occupancy that the truth of the 
situation began to dawn upon them. Bar- 
minster’s face was white and his voice shook 
as he ventured the horrid speculation : 

“ The good Lord save us — it ’s that 
demmed haunted house Pen was talking 
about ! ” 

But ze lights ? ” queried the count. 

“ Ghosts ! ” 

“ Let ’s get out of this place,” said Lord 







Cowardice Court 

Bazelhurst, moving toward the door. ‘‘It ’s 
that beastly Renwood house. They say he 
comes back and murders her every night 
or so.’' 

“ Mon Dieu ! ” 

“ Penelope is n’t here. Let ’s move on,” 
agreed the duke readily. But even fear of 
the supernatural was not strong enough to 
drive them out into the blinding storm. 
“ I say ! Look ahead there. By Harry, 
there's Shaw’s place.” 

Peering through the door they saw for 
the first time the many lights in Shaw’s 
windows, scarce a quarter of a mile away. 
For a long time they stood and gazed at 
the distant windows. Dejectedly they sat 
down, backs to the wall, and waited for the 
storm to spend its fury. Wet, cold, and 
tired, they finally dozed. It was Lord 
Cecil who first saw the signs of dawn. The 
rain storm had come to a mysterious end, 
but a heavy fog in its stead loomed up. 
He aroused his companions and with many 
groans of anguish they prepared to venture 
forth into the white wall beyond. 

Just as they were taking a last look about 
the wretched cellar something happened that 
would have brought terror to the stoutest 


H 


r 



The Author Trespasses 133 

heart. A wild, appalling shriek came from 
somewhere above, the cry of a mortal soul 
in agony. 

The next instant three human forms shot 
through the narrow door and out into the 
fog, hair on end, eyes bulging but sightless, 
legs travelling like the wind and as purpose- 
less. It mattered not that the way was 
hidden ; it mattered less that weeds, brush, 
and stumps lurked in ambush for unwary 
feet. They fled into the foggy dangers 
without a thought of what lay before them 
— only of what stalked behind them. 

Upstairs Randolph Shaw lay back against 
the wall and shook with laughter. Penel- 
ope’s convulsed face was glued to the 
kitchen window, her eyes peering into the fog 
beyond. Shadowy figures leaped into the 
white mantle ; the crash of brush came back 
to her ears, and then, like the barking of a 
dog, there arose from the mystic gray the 
fast diminishing cry: 

‘‘ Help ! Help ! Help ! ” Growing fainter 
and sharper the cry at last was lost in the 
phantom desert. 

They stood at the window and watched 
the fog lift, gray and forbidding, until the 
trees and road were discernible. Then, arm 





134 Cowardice Court 

in arm, they set forth across the wet way 
toward Shaw’s cottage. The mists cleared 
as they walked along, the sun peeped through 
the hills as if afraid to look upon the devas- 
tation of the night ; all the world seemed at 
peace once more. 

‘‘ Poor Cecil ! ” she sighed. It was cruel 
of you.” In the roadway they found a hat 
which she at once identified as the count’s. 
Farther on there was a carriage lamp, and 
later a mackintosh which had been cast aside 
as an impediment. “ Oh, it was cruel ! ” 
She smiled, however, in retrospection. 

An hour later they stood together on the 
broad porch, looking out over the green, 
glistening hills. The warm fresh air filled 
their lungs and happiness was overcrowding 
their hearts. In every direction were signs 
of the storm’s fury. Great trees lay blasted, 
limbs and branches were scattered over the 
ground, wide fissures split the roadway 
across which the deluge had rushed on its 
way down the slope. 

But Penelope was warm and dry and safe 
after her thrilling night. A hot breakfast was 
being prepared for them ; trouble seemed to 
have gone its way with the elements. 

“ If I were only sure that nothing serious 


The Author Trespasses 135 

had happened to Cecil/* she murmured 
anxiously. 

“ I *m sorry, dear, for that screech of 
mine,” he apologized. 

Suddenly he started and gazed intently in 
the direction of the haunted house. A man 
— a sorry figure — was slowly, painfully 
approaching from the edge of the wood 
scarce a hundred yards away. In his hand 
he carried a stick to which was attached a 
white cloth — doubtless a handkerchief. 
He was hatless and limped perceptibly. 
The two on the porch watched his approach 
in amazed silence. 

‘Ht *s Cecil!** whispered Penelope in 
horror-struck tones. “ Good heaven, Ran- 
dolph, go to him ! He is hurt;** 

It was Lord Bazelhurst. As Shaw hurried 
down the drive to meet him, no thought of 
the feud in mind, two beings even more 
hopelessly dilapidated ventured from the 
wood and hobbled up behind the truce- 
bearer, who had now paused to lift his 
shoulders into a position of dignity and 
defiance. Shaw*s heart was touched. The 
spectacle was enough to melt the prejudice 
of any adversary. Lord Ceciks knees trem- 
bled ; his hand shook as if in a chill. Mud- 


Cowardice Court 



c> 



covered, water-soaked, and bruised, their 
clothes rent in many places, their hats gone 
and their hair matted, their legs wobbly, the 
trio certainly inspired pity, not mirth nor 
scorn. 

“ One moment, sir,’* called his lordship, 
with a feeble attempt at severity. His voice 
was hoarse and shaky. ‘‘We do not come 
as friends, dem you. Is my sister here ? ” 

“ She is. Lord Bazelhurst. We ’ll talk 
this over later on,” said Shaw in his friend- 
liest way. “You are worn out and done 
up, I’m sure — you and your friends. 
Come ! I ’m not as bad as you think. I ’ve 
changed my mind since I saw you last. 
Let’s see if we can’t come to an amicable 
understanding. Miss Drake is waiting up 
there. Breakfast soon will be ready — hot 
coffee and all that. Permit me, gentlemen, 
to invite you to partake of what we have. 
What say you ? ” 

“ Confound you, sir, I — I — ” but his 
brave effort failed him. He staggered and 
would have fallen had not the duke caught 
him from behind. 

“ Thanks, old chap,” said Barminster to 
Shaw. “ We will come in for a moment. 
I say, perhaps you could give us a dry dud 



The Author Trespasses 137 

or two. Bazelhurst is in a bad way and so 
is the count. It was a devil of a storm.” 

“ Mon Dieu! c'etait epouv ant able ! ” groaned 
the count. 

Penelope came down from the porch to 
meet them. Without a word she took her 
brother’s arm. He stared at her with grow- 
ing resentment. 

“ Dem it all. Pen,” he chattered, ‘‘ you ’re 
not at all wet, are you ? Look at me ! All 
on your account, too.” 

“ Dear old Cecil ! All on Evelyn’s ac- 
count, you mean,” she said softly, wistfully. 

“ I shall have an understanding with her 
when we get home,” he said earnestly. 
“ She shan’t treat my sister like this again.” 

No,” said Shaw from the other side ; 

she shan’t.” 

“ By Jove, Shaw, are you with me? ” de- 
manded his lordship in surprise. 

“ Depends on whether you are with me,” 
said the other. Penelope flushed warmly. 

Later on, three chastened but ludicrous 
objects shuffled into the breakfast-room, 
where Shaw and Penelope awaited them. 
In passing, it is only necessary to say that 
Randolph Shaw’s clothes did not fit the 
gentlemen to whom they were loaned. 


138 Cowardice Court 

Bazelhurst was utterly lost in the folds of 
a gray tweed, while the count was obliged 
to roll up the sleeves and legs of a frock 
suit which fitted Shaw rather too snugly. 
The duke, larger than the others, was pas- 
sably fair in an old swallow-tail coat and 
brown trousers. They were clean, but there 
was a strong odour of arnica about them. 
Each wore, besides, an uncertain, sheepish 
smile. 

Hot coffee, chops, griddle cakes, and maple 
syrup soon put the contending forces at their 
ease. Bazelhurst so far forgot himself as to 
laugh amiably at his host’s jokes. The 
count responded in his most piquant dia- 
lect, and the duke swore by an ever-useful 
Lord Harry that he had never tasted such a 
breakfast. 

“ By Jove, Pen,” exclaimed her brother, in 
rare good humour, “ it ’s almost a sin to take 
you away from such good cooking as this.” 

“ You ’re not going to take her away, how- 
ever,” said Shaw. ‘‘ She has come to stay.” 

There was a stony silence. Coffee-cups 
hung suspended in the journey to mouths, 
and three pairs of eyes stared blankly at the 
smiling speaker. 

‘‘What — what the devil do you mean. 


The Author Trespasses 


139 


sir ? ” demanded Lord Cecil, his coffee-cup 
shaking so violently that the contents over- 
flowed. 

‘‘ She 's going over to Plattsburg with me 
to-day, and when she comes back she will be 
Mrs. Randolph Shaw. That ’s what I mean, 
your lordship.'* 

Three of his listeners choked with amaze- 
ment and then coughed painfully. Feebly 
they set their cups down and gulped as if 
they had something to swallow. The duke 
was the first to find his tongue, and he was 
quite at a loss for words. 

“ B — by Jove,” he said blankly, ‘‘ that ’s 
demmed hot coffee ! ” 

‘‘ Is this true, Penelope ? ” gasped his 
lordship. 

“Yes, Cecil. I Ve promised to marry 
him.” 

“ Good God ! It is n't because you feel 
that you have no home with me ? ” 

“I love him. It's a much older story 
than you think,” she said simply. 

“ I say, that hits me hard,” said the duke, 
with a wry face. “ Still, I join in saying 
God bless you.” 

“We 're trying to end the feud, you see,” 
said Penelope. 




,0 


9 


Tears came into his lordship’s pale eyes. 
He looked first at one and then at the other, 
and then silently extended his hand to Ran- 
dolph Shaw. He wrung it vigorously for 
a long time before speaking. Then, as if 
throwing a weight off his mind, he remarked : 

“ I say, Shaw, I ’m sorry about that dog. 
I ’ve got .an English bull-terrier down there 
that ’s taken a ribbon or so. If you don’t 
mind, I ’ll send him up to you. He — he 
knows Penelope.” 





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